Grief, but Never Despair.

Found on Pinterest.

Found on Pinterest.

Lately, it feels a bit like God is taking the wind out of my sails. Is he trying to make me sit still on this unending ocean for awhile? Perhaps.

I don’t really know, and I’m not going to pretend to.

God is still good, and that has to be enough. I hold no anger toward Him for taking Daddy. He has been too faithful, too great a comfort to me for that. I just find myself wondering. I find myself leaning on Him a little harder, hiding in his Presence more often, and asking him to tell Daddy I love him.

I told Levi last night that I feel like I walk around pretending I’m okay, because I have no choice. If I don’t, my children, my kitty, and my home would be neglected utterly. So would my friends. What I really want to do, much of the time, is hide in a hole and not come out until Jesus comes back.

That’s not really an option, though, is it? (And if you’ve never lost someone, probably seems a bit melodramatic.)

Whether I want to or not, I have to move on.

I am never going to “get over” losing Daddy. I’m not sure the pain will ever stop, but I hope it dies down to a simmering undertone, instead of this glaring, physical, bright thing that fights for my attention all day if I don’t beat it down, and put it in its place at the foot of the Cross.

I have to keep walking. Keep moving, keep working, keep living.

I have to take time-outs to acknowledge this thing called Grief, but I cannot linger there. I cannot live in that place.

When people ask, “How are you doing?” I usually just shrug my shoulders. The truth is, I’m doing. That’s about it. That’s not a good or a bad thing. It just is what it is, and I know I won’t be here forever. I know there’s an end to this valley road.

I hope it ends on a quiet beach, where I can just rest for awhile before the next stretch.

In the meantime, I keep remembering that my hope isn’t here. It isn’t in my children, my husband, my church family, or my friends. My hope is in Jesus Christ, who is proving himself the most faithful friend I have right now. Truly, there is none like him. He is bigger than this, and he loves me.

With him, there is room for grief, but not despair. Never that. Only grief, and a deeper longing to be with Him.

To live is Christ. To die is gain.

Thanks to Daddy, I get it now.

Grace & Peace,


2 thoughts on “Grief, but Never Despair.

  1. Tiff, as one who has been where you are can I say it will get better? I will not give you any more platitudes. You are right. You never “get over it”, but you will reach a point where there are more happy thoughts and memories and not the huge gaping whole that rips you apart. How’s that for melodrama?
    Keep going, have a few good cries, and keep it real. Remember your kids lost someone and so did Levi. Don’t be so strong that they can’t seek comfort from you. Sometimes it is in the comforting of others that we find a different kind of comfort.
    You are never to old to need your daddy. You are always his little girl, and when he isn’t there it is just wrong.
    I love you and pray for you. You will come out the other side. I promise!

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