HEALING HEARTS: Choosing Life

 

Last week, I wrote about being on the road with grief. It’s a journey that looks different for everyone. We all experience loss—sometimes it’s a quiet ache, and other times it’s a tidal wave that knocks us off our feet. No matter the form, grief can stir deep sadness and longing.

This week, I revisited a book I first read in 2009, when I attended a grief counseling program in Neosho. It was offered by a local church and funeral home. The book, The Grief Recovery Handbook by Russell Friedman and John W. James, is short, 192 pages, but is filled with helpful, practical steps for healing.

The revised edition has a 4.1-star rating on Goodreads and thousands of positive reviews on Amazon; it’s clear that this book has helped many others as well. 

The method the authors share is tried and tested. Of course, no book can guarantee healing, but it offers a path forward. Readers must be honest with themselves, follow the steps sincerely, and be willing to do the work to recover—not just cope—with grief. Sometimes there may be issues that need resolving, especially with the loss of a loved one, and the authors advise how to overcome the problem. It works!

After losing my precious daughter Stephanie on February 2, I found myself deep in sorrow, tormented by what I now recognize as the Spirit of Grief. That darkness wrapped itself around me and nearly convinced me that I couldn't go on. I didn’t want to face a future without her. My heart hurt so deeply, I couldn’t think beyond my own pain. I wanted to die.

But God, in His mercy, did not leave me there.

With the help of the Holy Spirit, I began to see that I needed to do something. My family still needs me. And I can still live, even with this heartache. Step by step, day by day, I am learning to lean on God and walk through this valley with His strength.

“I have set before you life and death... now choose life.” — Deuteronomy 30:19. That is God's command.

That verse has anchored my heart. I choose life.

I’m beginning to recover from the Spirit of Grief—but it's a daily choice. Every day, I must choose to walk with Jesus, to guard my heart from the enemy’s lies, and to fill my ears and mind with His truth and hope.

Another verse that strengthens me is:

Zechariah 9:9 (NKJV):
“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your King is coming to you; He is just and having salvation, lowly and riding on a donkey...”

Even in sorrow, I’m reminded that my King comes with salvation, comfort, and peace.

I'm grateful that I chose to reread The Grief Recovery Handbook. It helped me identify the lies I was believing and pointed me toward the healing that only God can complete. I highly recommend it for anyone navigating grief. And there are many other books out there about grief, which I've read several, so read the reviews, find help, and pray - God will lead you! 

Grief may be part of our journey, but it does not get the final word. With God, there is still purpose, still hope, and yes—still joy ahead. My heart is healing, one day at a time. But it's a daily choice, a daily fight to win this grief war! 

If you’re struggling with grief, please know you’re not alone. There is help, there is healing, and there is hope. Don’t be afraid to reach out to a trusted friend, a counselor, or most of all, to God. He sees you. He walks with you. And He will carry you through.

I'm healing my heart one day at a time...

HEALING HEARTS: When Grief Overwhelms, Faith Leads the Way

When Grief Overwhelms, Faith Leads the Way

The past thirty-six days since my precious daughter’s passing have been grueling. The shock of losing her pushed me into a dark place, trapping me in sorrow until a friend pointed out something I hadn’t recognized—I was being tormented by a Spirit of Grief.

I believe in the reality of spiritual warfare, but I was too overwhelmed to see it. However, once I began praying to rebuke this spirit, I felt myself slowly climbing out of despair. This past week, I’ve been able to function better. Some days, I only cry once instead of a dozen times or more.

As God continues to answer my prayers, I find the strength, courage, and energy to accept that my daughter is gone.

I’m no stranger to grief. I’ve lost my beloved great-grandmother, my loving mother, my dear husband, and now my precious daughter. Each loss has left a deep wound. Grief forces us to confront death in a deeply personal way. And despite what some may say, it doesn’t get easier with time or familiarity. Each loss brings a fresh wave of sorrow that stings, cripples, and, at times, fills me with anger.

Over the past thirty-six days, I’ve experienced a rollercoaster of emotions and dealt with the aftermath of losing someone so dear. It has been exhausting. It has been debilitating. And in many ways, I know this journey is just beginning.

Yet, once I started praying for the Holy Spirit to free me from this torment, God delivered me from its clutches. I feel better physically—no more rushing to the bathroom or eating antacids like candy to soothe an upset stomach. My mind is slowly healing, and spiritually, I’m experiencing the power of focused prayer.

Through my tears, I can still whisper, “Thank You, Lord,” because He has been my refuge. I choose to walk with Jesus and rest under His wings, where I am safe from the trials before me. Each day, I face life without my daughter, yet I find myself sleeping a little better at night.

But life hasn’t stopped. On top of grieving, I am going to move again. Not long ago, I told Stephanie that I hoped I’d never have to move again. She understood completely. And yet, here I am, facing the reality of packing up, relocating, and spending money I don’t want to spend. If I stay, I have no family nearby, and if the house sells, a new landlord will likely raise the rent—something I can’t afford as a retired widow on a fixed income.

When I decided to move, I cringed. I cried. I felt like a weary traveler wandering and exhausted from the journey. I had barely started packing when God spoke to my heart: Think of this as a mission. You are a missionary, touching lives wherever you go—even when you don’t realize it.

His words shifted my perspective. Sometimes, we are called to do things we don’t want to do simply because they are necessary.

Spring is awakening, and the flowers I planted with care are beginning to push through the soil. The thought of leaving behind my trees, bushes, and perennials breaks my heart. But God reminds me: Think of it as a gift to those who will live here next. Let them enjoy the beauty you’ve left behind.

As I downsize yet again, parting with belongings that hold meaning, my heart aches. But God reassures me: New days are ahead. Keep what you need for that future.

I worry about my two cats and how they’ll adjust to our new home. But again, God whispers: Give them time—and give yourself time. Show them they are safe, and you will find comfort in that too.

This season of my life is teaching me to surrender my worries to God. When I place my trust in Him, He gives me hope, strength, and the assurance that He is guiding me forward. And for that, I offer Him praise.

I will forever miss my daughter, of course. But I also know that one day, I will see her again when I am called home. Praise the Lord—hallelujah!

Psalm 121:1-8
"I will lift up my eyes to the hills—
From whence comes my help?
My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.
He will not allow your foot to be moved;
He who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, He who keeps Israel
Shall neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord is your keeper;
The Lord is your shade at your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
Nor the moon by night.
The Lord shall preserve you from all evil;
He shall preserve your soul.
The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in
From this time forth, and even forevermore.”