HOPE, HEALING AND PURPOSE IN THE PAIN
When the Waves Hit
Have you ever felt like you’re doing so well with your grief one day, and yet seem to be falling apart the next? Well, welcome to normal. One moment you’re laughing with friends, enjoying a beautiful afternoon, feeling strong and hopeful. Then suddenly a song comes on the radio. A familiar scent drifts through the air. A birthday, anniversary, or holiday appears on the calendar. Without warning, a wave rises from somewhere deep inside and crashes over your heart. Perhaps your loss was the death of a loved one. Maybe it was a broken relationship, a prodigal child, a devastating diagnosis, the loss of a career or a season of life that ended before you were ready. Whatever the loss, grief often arrives in much the same way. If you’ve experienced waves without warning, you’re not broken; you’re grieving.
One misconception about grief is that healing happens in ABC order or in a straight line. We tell ourselves, “I should be over this by now.” Others may quietly wonder the same thing. But grief doesn’t work that way. Like it or not, grief comes in waves. Those waves are not reserved for funeral homes and cemeteries. They can also follow the loss of health, security, identity, purpose, or hope for the future. Any significant loss has the potential to leave an ache in the soul that requires healing. Think about the ocean for a moment. One minute it’s calm and clear. The sun dances across the water as smooth as glass. Beauty and serenity stretch for miles in every direction. Yet as the earth rotates, the sun sets, the moon rises, and conditions begin to change, small ripples form far out at sea. They gather momentum, growing larger until they eventually roll toward shore and break upon the beach. The ocean never disappeared. The conditions changed. Grief is much the same way. The loss never completely leaves us; we wouldn’t want it to. After all, grief is love. It becomes a part of our life journey, woven into a tapestry of sorrow and joy. But changing seasons, memories, circumstances, and milestones can stir up emotions we thought had settled. Waves of sorrow, longing, tears, and remembrance ebb and flow throughout life. And that’s okay.
Key Takeaway: Grief is not a sign that you’re failing. Waves are a normal part of the journey.
Why Waves Matter
Many people fear the waves of grief and try desperately to avoid them. But waves are not the enemy. In fact, healthy grief may be one of the greatest gifts God gives us after devastating loss. Pain that isn’t dealt with and remains buried does not disappear. The body remembers. The heart remembers. The soul remembers. The apostle John writes: “Beloved friend, I pray that you are prospering in every way and that you continually enjoy good health, just as your soul is prospering.” (3 John 1:2) What a powerful truth. Everyone wants to prosper and have good health, right? Everyone wants peace. Everyone wants to move forward with strength and purpose. Yet true prosperity begins in the soul; our mind, emotions, and will. Healing isn’t about pretending we’re okay. Healing happens when we allow God to touch the places that still hurt. The tears, the emotions, the memories, and even the difficult conversations are often part of that sacred process. The waves aren’t trying to destroy us. They are helping wash away what still needs cleansing.
Key Takeaway: The goal is not to suppress grief but to allow God to heal us through it.
Job: An Example of Healthy Grief
In the Old Testament, Job experienced unimaginable loss. He lost his ten children, his possessions, his health, and nearly everything he held dear. Yet, despite his suffering, he did not blame God. Instead, he grieved. Scripture tells us: “At this, Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fell to the ground in worship and said: “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.” (Job 1:20-21) NIV
Notice something important. Job didn’t deny his pain. He didn’t pretend everything was fine. He didn’t numb himself with distractions. He expressed his grief honestly before God. What a profound lesson for us today. God never condemned Job for grieving. In many ways, He gave us permission through Job’s example to mourn deeply while remaining anchored in faith. There is a tremendous difference between grieving and losing hope. One is healthy. The other is dangerous. We must grieve with hope. Job teaches us that tears and faith can exist together.
Key Takeaway: Biblical faith does not eliminate grief; it gives us strength to go through it.
The Problem with “Microwave Grief”
As I share in Austin’s Cabin, the Western world is often uncomfortable with grief. People want microwave grief. They want us to get up, get over it, and get going. Many have been conditioned to believe that strength means silence. That healing means moving on quickly. That talking about loss somehow means we’re stuck. But real healing doesn’t operate on a schedule. The truth is, healthy grief is one of the most positive things we can do after painful loss. I, for one, have learned to heal out loud. That’s one of the gifts God has given me. Healing out loud allows others to realize they aren’t alone. It gives people permission to be honest. It creates space for conversations many desperately need but are afraid to begin.
Now that I’ve learned to find purpose in the pain, sharing hope with hurting people has become one of my deepest passions. I know this makes some people uncomfortable. They think I should have moved on by now, perhaps because there is something within them that is uneasy with grief.
The truth is, I have moved forward. In fact, that’s exactly why sharing hope with others has become such a passion of mine. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting; it means allowing your pain to serve a greater purpose.
I find it interesting that people talk about their loved ones all the time, yet somehow question why I talk about mine. Love doesn’t end when someone is gone, and neither do the memories, lessons, and impact they leave behind. Selah.
I’ve noticed something fascinating. When I share a grief message online, perhaps 10 or 15 people will “like” the post. Meanwhile, analytics of our platforms show that thousands of people actually read the message. Why? Because grief makes people uncomfortable. Many people will quietly read, cry, relate, and heal, but never publicly acknowledge it. And that’s okay. Healing isn’t measured by likes, comments, or shares. It’s measured by what God is doing in the hidden places of the heart. I’ve simply learned to keep moving forward by faith, sharing what God places on my heart and trusting Him with the results. My responsibility is to be faithful and tell the story. His responsibility is to heal the brokenhearted. Let’s just be careful not to let hidden places become secrets. Secrets can make people sick.
Key Takeaway: Has our discomfort with grief caused us to move too quickly toward celebration and not linger long enough in lament? Both have their place, but closure and healing often begin when we give sorrow the sacred space it deserves.
Learning to Surf the Waves
One thing I’ve learned about waves of grief is this: Every time we navigate a wave instead of avoiding it, we become stronger. We learn to ride the wave. We learn to surf, so to speak. As an author, when I write about grief, I realize the emotional energy it takes, but it is well worth the cost to try and help others. If wounds need to be reopened to write honestly, to be vulnerable sharing hope, then so be it. Finding a healthy balance leads to peace.
I actually ask the Lord to surface anything in me that is not healed. Sometimes I don’t like His answers but I know He’s always right and wants the very best for me. He is God. The old memories resurface. Unexpected emotions emerge. Forgotten wounds reveal themselves. But every time He answers my prayers, another layer of healing follows. “I pray with great faith for you, because I’m fully convinced that the One who began this gracious work in you will faithfully continue the process of maturing you until the unveiling of our Lord Jesus Christ!”
(Philippians 1:6)
We notice in Psalm 23 that David didn’t camp in the dark valley. He walked through it. That’s what healing does. It walks, it surfs, it moves. Sometimes we’re not even sure how we’re moving or where we’re going, but we trust God in the momentum because He is good. Every time we emerge from a valley of the shadow of death, we find ourselves standing higher on the mountain than before. Stronger. Wiser. More compassionate. More dependent upon God. Why would we spend our lives running from healing when God is offering restoration?
Key Takeaway: Each wave successfully navigated builds greater strength, resilience, and spiritual maturity.
A Word for the Season
We are living in a world carrying enormous amounts of grief. Some are grieving people they have buried. Others are grieving children who have wandered, opportunities that disappeared, health that has changed, or dreams that never unfolded as expected. Loss wears many faces, but God as the Comforter can reach every one of them. There is a collective weariness many people cannot quite explain. Yet I sense the Lord gently reminding His people of something important: You are not sinking. You are being strengthened. What feels like instability is often God teaching us to anchor ourselves more deeply in Him. What feels like weakness may be the birthplace of greater compassion and purpose. The Holy Spirit remains our Comforter today just as He has always been. Jesus promised, “I will ask the Father and he will give you another Savior, the Holy Spirit of Truth, who will be to you a friend just like me and he will never leave you.” (John 14:16) Wow! What reassurance. What peace. What hope. You do not have to carry your grief alone. You do not have to manufacture strength. You do not have to figure everything out. God is still redeeming your story. He is still restoring your heart. He is bringing beauty from ashes (Isaiah 61:3).
Key Takeaway: God’s presence remains steady even when life feels uncertain.
Let the Waves Come
If you’re grieving today, let me encourage you. Let the waves come and go. Don’t fear them. Don’t judge yourself because of them. Don’t apologize for them. Let your feelings feel. Let the tears come when they need to come. Let God continue His healing work. And remember Paul’s encouragement: “Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.” (Romans 12:15)
Grief is not evidence of weakness. Sometimes tears are evidence of courage. Sometimes they are evidence of growth. Sometimes they are evidence that healing is still happening. And that’s a beautiful thing. The waves may never completely disappear this side of heaven. But we can learn to navigate them. We can learn to trust God in them. We can discover purpose within them. God is still in the business of redemption…that’s what He does. And that brings eternal hope.
Key Takeaway: You don’t have to control the waves of grief. You simply need to trust the One who teaches you to surf.
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