Grieving What Was … While Holding Onto Hope of What Will Be

Grief Isn’t a Lack of Faith

This morning I woke up with grief in my heart.

Not the dramatic kind… just a quiet heaviness. The kind that sits behind your eyes when something you used to love doesn’t feel the same anymore.

I’ve been grieving what America, and a lot of the rest of the world has become.

And I don’t mean it as a political statement. I mean it as something deeper. Something spiritual. Something that feels like a loss of innocence in the culture… a loss of decency… a loss of unity… a loss of trust.

I miss when it felt like people cared about goodness, kindness, helping each other and living our best lives.
I miss when we could disagree without hating each other.
I miss when this world and this country felt like home.

And even though I believe the world is changing for a reason… even though I believe the current system cannot hold and something new and much better is coming… grief still comes with that and often creeps in unexpectedly. Today was one of those days.

I wanted to share this because grief doesn’t mean you’ve lost hope.
Grief just means you’ve loved something deeply enough to mourn what it used to be.

I think sometimes people assume that if you have faith, you shouldn’t feel sadness—like grief is weakness or doubt.

But I don’t believe that.

Grief is part of being awake, aware, conscious of our own truth and inner exisitance.
It is part of caring.
and Part of seeing clearly.

I am living proof that grief can live in the same heart as hope. Many of us are in today’s world.

I can miss what was… and still believe God is building what will be, even knowing it will be absolutely incredible in the end.
I can mourn what is collapsing… and still prepare for what’s coming.
I can feel the ache for what I see around me today … and still keep walking forward.

This morning, I let myself feel it.

I didn’t fight it.
I didn’t numb it.
I didn’t pretend it wasn’t there.

I just let it be honest.

And then, as the morning went on, I could feel something else rising up underneath it:

An enhanced steadiness.
A focused clarity.
A quiet strength.

I don’t live in fear.

I live with faith, wisdom, and intention.

If you’ve been feeling this gnawing grief too—if you’ve been carrying your own quiet hurt —just know you’re not alone.

Grief doesn’t mean you’re losing.

It just means your heart is still alive, and well and caring, even for the greater good.

Feel it. Accept it. Acknowledge it. Then get up, and start walking forward again. One step at a time. You will be stronger for it.

I am glad we are on this journey together.