Breathing Through Grief

Introduction

When I spoke my wedding vows, I never dreamed those words—“in sickness and health, until death do us part”—would mean burying my husband eleven years later. I imagined having babies, doing ministry as a team, and chasing careers. We dreamed of traveling to distant shores and fulfilling dreams together.

I never imagined the word cancer would one day separate us before we were old and gray.

I never dreamed there would be a day when I would usher my young daughters—ages two, five, and eight—into the room, one by one, and urge them to kiss Daddy one more time.

I never dreamed I would be cradling his hand in mine, fingering that wedding band—an unending circle of love between us—as his hazel eyes moved toward dawn’s light streaming wildly through the blinds of our bedroom window the moment before he left his broken body behind.

I never dreamed I would kneel by his grave when our three girls were still so young, and we would all have to whisper our goodbyes.

This is a story I never would have written for myself. But this is the story I’ve lived. I’ve also learned the grief journey can be lonely. We can start to second guess ourselves when we are navigating grief. We can start to wonder if we are the only ones on this wild and weaving path. Maybe you haven’t lost a spouse but you have experienced loss in another way. Maybe you have buried a parent, a friend, or a child.

Maybe you have left a job, a community, or a church. Maybe you have faced infertility or experienced a miscarriage. Maybe you have been abandoned by a family member or betrayed by a friend. Maybe your marriage is broken or you have endured some kind of medical trauma. Maybe your heart is bleeding from the injustice in our world.

Friend, this book is for you.

I wish I could give you a five-step plan, grant you a wish from a magic lamp, or write you a how-to guide that could help you get through grief faster. Unfortunately, the only way through grief is through. You have to do the work. No prescription or pill will help you bypass that pain. However, I’m here to offer you a hand because I do not want you to journey alone.

This journal is an invitation for you to make space for your own grief. Accompanied by glimpses into my personal story, each devotional section will invite you to process your experience as you fill these pages with thoughts, prayers, fears, and any other whispers of your heart, both in response to the Inhale prompt sections and in the free-writing Exhale sections. As you read these words and write on these lines, I pray that you will be present to your own grief journey in the way that most suits you. After all, grief is always unique, and I hope you will feel the freedom to approach this journal not as a prescribed rule book, but as an encouraging guide, companion, and confidante. My prayer is that these stories, scriptures, prayers, and prompts will help you catch your breath and gently guide you toward the healing that only comes through communion with Christ.