After the loss of a child, people wonder if the mother or father will ever be the same. The answer is no. No, they are never the same again. I know of fathers whose grief was so incomprehensible that they never recovered. And some mothers mentally shut down, like me. I miss my son’s laughter, his voice, and how he was always excited to cook with me. We loved cooking together. The dreadful day is approaching, and yesterday, I revisited the valley of tears. I’ve learned that it’s okay to grieve, and I permit myself to do so, because grief reminds me that my heart is still tender. I struggle with the idea of becoming bitter, resentful, and unforgiving; that place is hell, and I lived there for a long time. So, when grief comes over for a visit, I welcome him in, and we sit for a while. When he leaves, I say to myself, You’re going to be okay, and I am because the God of Comfort sits with me, and sometimes I feel His loving gaze on my face. His compassion shines on my face, and His warm embrace holds me. I met True Love in the Valley of Tears; God is Love, and Love never abandons or forsakes. So, no, I will never stop talking about grief because grief is intertwined into a beautiful tapestry of the memories that help us move forward in our pilgrimage heavenward. Grief is a reminder that God holds every tear and waters the seed of hope. Making beauty, my grandson is preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ from the ashes of his father’s death. His daughter’s wedding on her daddy’s birthday marked that day as a new beginning. My son is not our past, he is in our future, we will see him again, but this time for eternity in heaven.
The Valley of Tears
Scripture:
“Blessed are those whose strength is in You,
whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.
As they pass through the Valley of Baca,
they make it a place of springs;
the autumn rains also cover it with pools.”
— Psalm 84:5–6
Reflection:
The Valley of Tears is not a place to stay — it is a place to pass through.
Yet in the passing, something sacred happens: our sorrow becomes a well.
Grief has a way of hollowing the heart, carving deep places where the living water of God can dwell. What once felt like emptiness becomes capacity.
What once felt like loss becomes an invitation.
There were seasons I walked through this valley with my head down,
counting the stones instead of the stars.
But even there, the Shepherd was near —
collecting my tears, marking every step with mercy.
In time, I learned that tears are not the end of faith;
they are its baptism.
They cleanse the eyes so we can see again —
not the pain that was, but the promise that is coming.
Every tear that falls becomes a seed of hope.
And when the rain of His presence comes,
the valley blooms into a place of life.
Repentance:
LORD, forgive me for resisting the valley,
for wishing it away before Your work was complete.
Teach me to see even my sorrow as sacred ground,
where Your comfort and compassion grow.
Journal Prompt:
What have your tears taught you about God’s character?
Can you see how He has met you in grief — not as a distant observer,
but as a Father who weeps with you?
Write what springs of hope have begun to rise from your valley.
Sacred Pause:
Pause here and imagine your tears falling into the soil.
Now see flowers begin to bloom from the very ground that once felt barren.
This is redemption — beauty from ashes, joy from sorrow.
Interpretation:
The Valley of Tears is not the end of your story; it’s the place where faith takes root.
The God who met you in the fire will meet you in the flood.
And one day, you will look back and see that your tears were not wasted —
they were the rain that watered your new beginning.
Anchor Scripture:
“Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy.”
— Psalm 126:5
Closing Prayer — From Tears to Joy
O Lord,
You have walked with me through every valley,
You have wept where I wept.
Not one tear escaped Your notice;
not one cry was unheard by Heaven.
Thank You for gathering my tears in Your bottle
and turning them into springs of life.
You have shown me that sorrow does not separate me from You —
it draws me closer to Your heart.
Today I choose to praise You, even from the valley,
for I know the rain of my tears has watered seeds of joy.
And when the harvest comes,
I will remember: You were faithful through it all.
In Jesus’ holy name,
Amen.