Faith and Grief: Learning How to Breathe Again

After loss, there were moments when breathing felt like work.

Not dramatic; just heavy. Shallow. Forgotten.

What carried me through wasn’t answers. It was faith. Not strong or polished faith, but faith that whispered, “God, help me take the next breath.”

Prayer became simpler.

Scripture became oxygen.

And God’s presence became a place to rest. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.” (Psalm 34:18)

Faith didn’t take the pain away. But it reminded me I wasn’t alone inside it.

Lately, I’ve noticed how grief still lives in my body. Sometimes I catch myself holding my breath; until a headache or lightheadedness reminds me to pause. The shock of losing my sister Cheryl is still real. There are moments I reach for my phone, forgetting for a second that she’s gone.

When that happens, I place my hand on my heart. I take four to ten slow breaths. And I quietly tell myself: I am safe. My sister is at rest.

If you’re reading this, take a breath now.

God is here.

You’re not alone.

And breathing; right here; is enough.