The first-year-of-everything without a loved one is hard, and that can be especially true during the holidays.

After my mom died in 2015, I had a tough time. Much tougher than I’d anticipated.

And the first Christmas? I couldn’t face a single decoration.

When the rug is pulled out

Mom and I had talked a lot about death and dying. She was tired of dealing with her physical challenges and eager to go Home to her Savior. We were both blessed to get to do everything the way we’d hoped at the end of her life. She called the shots, and I was able to take care of her.

But after she was gone, I was lost. And not nearly as prepared as I’d thought I’d be.

I remember standing at the kitchen counter one day - sobbing - as I tried to explain to my husband that the rug-of-everything had been pulled out from under me.

That Mom had been such a foundation in my life for all of my life and now that foundation was gone.

Yes, I prayed.

Yes, I knew that God had me.

Yes, I knew Mom was in a “better place.”

Yes, I knew I’d see her again someday.

But nothing could make up for the fact that I missed her so.

My heart was broken in the missing. Somedays it still is.

Grief changes us

When I first heard the opening lyrics to “Tell Your Heart to Beat Again,” sung by Danny Gokey, I wept.

Indeed, I sometimes felt as if I’d never get back to my former me.

And you know what? I won’t.

Because grief changes us. It’s not just a series of stages we go through, but something that transforms us forever. Which is why I also identified with both the reality and hope he offers in the chorus.

Peace within the pain

You may be familiar with the story of Horatio Spafford—whose four young daughters drowned when their ship collided with another vessel.

While I can’t imagine the depth of his loss, I also find it incredibly moving that Spafford could somehow embrace a sense of peace in the midst of it.

A peace that could only have come from God.

It’s how he was able to pen the lyrics to this familiar hymn:

“When peace like a river attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll,

Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul.”

Although Spafford wrote that song over a century ago, the sentiments are the same as Gokey’s contemporary tune - and both arrive at the same conclusion: that even-and-especially in the midst of great pain … pain so deep that we can’t explain it … so personal that no one else can understand it …

God is there.

In the midst of it.

With us.

Deeper intimacy with God

I don’t know about you and your pain, but I do know about me and mine.

And in its midst, I’ve found a deeper intimacy with God that I likely wouldn’t have found without it.

If you’re aching because a loved one is no longer with you this holiday season, please know that I’ll be praying for you.

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 Photo by Niklas Ohlrogge (niamoh.de) on Unsplash