“Hello, darkness, my old friend…”
Grief has a way of returning during the holidays
like an old familiar visitor—
not always welcome,
but never without purpose.
For years, I used to think of darkness
only as an enemy.
And yes—there is a darkness that destroys,
a darkness that suffocates hope.
But there is also another kind of darkness…
a tender darkness,
a quiet room of the soul
where grief sits beside us,
teaching us what light cannot.
Holidays can make that darkness feel louder,
because the world around us sparkles
while the heart remembers
who is missing.
And sometimes grief whispers,
“Hello… I’m still here.”
Not to defeat us,
but to remind us
that love once lived deeply,
and love still lingers
in the ache.
Grief as a Teacher
We often try to push grief away—
rationalize it,
busy ourselves,
talk our way around it.
But grief is not something
you can think yourself out of.
Grief is a process.
A companion.
A season.
You hold it like a fragile friend
until it can stand on its own—
and it will.
You carry it close
until one day
it carries you into more profound compassion,
a more tender love,
a wiser heart.
Grief is a teacher.
She teaches us:
- How deeply we were able to love,
- How sacred the bond truly was,
- How human we are,
- How precious life is,
- How present God becomes
when everything else falls silent.
Grief, when surrendered to God,
does not harden the heart—
it softens it.
It purifies it.
It deepens our capacity to love
with sincerity and truth.
In this way,
grief is not the enemy.
Grief is part of love’s journey.
And love—real love—
is never wasted.
Sacred Pause — “Sit with Me Here.”
Close your eyes.
Take one deep breath.
Imagine grief not as a threat,
but as a gentle friend
who sits beside you,
holding your hand
in the quiet moments and
you don’t know what to say.
Whisper:
“Lord, be with me in this place.”
Let the tears come if they need to.
Let the silence speak if it must.
Let Jesus, the Man of Sorrows,
sit beside you
until grief is ready
to teach you something new.
Prayer of Repentance
Lord, I come before You with humility.
Forgive me for the moments
when I tried to outrun grief
instead of bringing it to You.
Forgive me for resisting the process
that could have shaped my heart
with deeper compassion.
Wash me from every place
where I have hardened myself
to avoid pain.
Create in me a clean heart, O God,
one that can feel deeply
and love sincerely.
Teach me to welcome grief
not as an enemy,
but as a companion
who leads me closer to Your heart.
Hold me in Your mercy
as You heal me in Your time.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.