Remembering, and Not Being Shaken

There are moments when grief catches me off guard.

Yesterday, it was a plant my sister gave me. Walking down the stairs toward it, I felt grateful for a moment; until grief interrupted. I wanted to call her. I wanted to say thank you again. I wanted to check on her. And then the truth settled in: I couldn’t.

I tried to share that moment with someone I was talking to, but they were carrying their own pain and couldn’t hold mine. That loneliness can make grief feel heavier.

In moments like that, I return to the scripture that has been holding me:

“I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.” (Psalm 16:8)

If you’re grieving and find yourself reaching for someone who is no longer here; or for a job, a routine, or a friendship that once steadied you; know that you’re not doing anything wrong. Let the ache come. Say their name if you need to. Feel the absence for what it is. And if no one around you can hold your pain in that moment, you can turn to God the way I do; quietly, honestly, without explanation. When what we leaned on before is no longer there, God becomes the place we relearn how to rest. The loss still hurts, but His nearness is enough to steady the ground beneath us.

This moment reminded me of the first step in my poetry book; acknowledging the hurt instead of pushing past it. Naming the ache didn’t weaken my faith; it steadied it.

I have resolved; like I did years ago; that God is the reason I can keep living. When I feel unsteady, I fix my gaze on Him. When tears rise, I let Him steady me. When grief reminds me of what’s missing, God reminds me of what remains.

My heart still aches. I still miss my sister; and the many loved ones I lost before her.

But I am not abandoned in it.

With God near, I may grieve; but I will not be shaken.