Grief Changed Me: What People Get Wrong About Showing Up for the Brokenhearted

God Said No – Weekly Reflection

Grief is not a single moment.

It is a landscape.

A valley that you walk through step by step, sometimes slowly, sometimes painfully, sometimes with clarity, sometimes with confusion.

This series is called Grief Reality: Lessons From the Valley because grief reveals things about life, relationships, faith, and ourselves that we often do not see until we are standing in the middle of loss.

I’m choosing transparency in this space not because the journey is easy, but because honesty can help someone else feel less alone.

If my story helps someone navigate their own valley, then the pain I’ve walked through will continue to serve a purpose.

This week I’m writing from a very intentional place.

A sad place.

A disappointed place.

A reflective place.

Grief has layers. And as I continue walking through this journey, those layers keep revealing themselves.

One of the hardest truths about grief is that some relationships will not survive it.

Not always because someone did something wrong. Sometimes it’s simply because grief changes a person so deeply that the version of you people once knew no longer exists in the same way. The person you were when the person you loved passed away will never be the same person again.

Scripture reminds us:

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

— Psalm 34:18

When your spirit has been crushed, the way you move through the world changes.

When Your Life Has to Stay in Alignment

If you’re anything like me, you value alignment in your life.

For most of my life, everything had to be in order so that I could show up fully in the roles I carried.

Mama lion.

Jaxon’s mom.

Nolin’s mom.

Darren’s mom.

Regina’s daughter.

Darryl’s wife.

A friend.

These are the titles we carry as we move through the world, and I carried them with intention.

But everything changes when you lose something as impactful as a child.

Grief doesn’t just break your heart.

It rearranges your life.

The way you think changes.

The way you show up changes.

The way you move through relationships changes.

The emotional alignment you once depended on shifts in ways you could never prepare for.

Grief Reality vs. Reality

Another thing I’m learning on this journey is the difference between grief reality and shared reality.

Grief reality is a difficult place to live.

When you are grieving, the emotions you feel are real.

The sadness is real.

The anger is real.

The confusion is real.

But to the people around you, those emotions may not feel real because they are not experiencing them the way you are.

So while you are living inside one reality—the reality of your grief—the world around you may still be operating in another.

And that’s where tension begins.

The gap between grief reality and shared reality is often where misunderstandings happen. It’s where relationships become strained. It’s where distance begins to form.

Scripture tells us:

“Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.”

— Romans 12:15

But many people simply do not know how to mourn with someone else.

The Solitude of Grief

Grief creates a kind of solitude.

Even when you are surrounded by people who love you, there are parts of grief you experience completely alone.

Losing two sons leaves layers of grief that cannot be compared.

Each loss is different.

The loss of Jaxon has devastated me to my core.

He was my mission.

He was my best friend.

He was my secret keeper.

He was my ride-or-die.

He was my second-in-command on missions that often had everything to do with him.

Sometimes he was even my boss.

But most importantly, he was my son.

And when you lose something that profound, it leaves what I can only describe as agape holes in your life.

Places where love once lived.

Places where trust once lived.

Places where honor and purpose once filled the space.

And suddenly those spaces are still there, but the person who filled them is gone.

What Grief Reveals

Over the last four years, loss has become far too familiar.

I have lost my sons.

I have lost a father figure, Mr. John.

I have lost my brother.

I have lost grandparents.

I have lost friends.

And in some ways, I have even lost people who are still walking this earth.

Because sometimes grief is not only about death.

Sometimes grief is about accepting that a relationship will never be what it once was.

When people show you who they are, you believe them.

And sometimes that means grieving people who are still alive.

That is a complicated kind of grief.

What Survival Mode Allows

I’ve been in intensive therapy for years—truthfully since Jaxon’s birth injury—because everything about my world shifted the moment our journey began.

But in the last 100 days, my world hasn’t just shaken.

It has shattered.

And in that shattering, many things have been exposed.

Some relationships didn’t make it past what I now call the vibe check.

If I’m honest, some of those relationships probably shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

But when you’re living in survival mode, you allow things sometimes.

You allow dynamics that shouldn’t exist.

You allow people to stay longer than they should.

But when you lose something sacred, your perspective changes.

You value things differently.

You look differently.

You feel differently.

You speak differently.

You walk differently.

The Anger Inside Grief

Grief anger is real.

There’s a saying people use: don’t poke the bear.

Grief anger is that bear.

But it’s not ordinary anger.

This anger is soul anger.

It is consuming anger.

It is devastating anger.

It comes from a place where love once lived deeply.

Scripture reminds us:

“Be angry, and yet do not sin.”

— Ephesians 4:26

Anger in grief is not the problem.

The problem is when people do not understand the order of operations of grief.

Before speaking to someone who is grieving, check your position.

Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is simply understand your place in the circle of grief.

A Hope Dealer in the Middle of Devastation

I’m being transparent about this journey because my hope is that it helps someone.

In the middle of chaos and devastation, I’ve started calling myself something:

A hope dealer.

Because even in this pain, I still want to help people.

I still want to teach.

I still want to grow.

That strength doesn’t come from human willpower.

It comes from God.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”

— 2 Corinthians 12:9

Do you know how rooted in Christ you have to be to walk through devastation and still choose to pour into others?

That strength only comes from God.

Boundaries After Grief

Another thing grief has done is expose my values.

I value honesty.

I value showing up.

I value intention.

I value being a safe place for others.

Because of the work I’ve done mentally, spiritually, and emotionally, I’m standing in a very different place than I once was.

And I’m proud of that work.

So as I move into 2026, a boundary has been set.

No one is allowed to mishandle me.

Grief did not destroy me.

It clarified me.

The Room Being Carried Away

As I write this, Jaxon’s room is being dismantled.

Every piece of it.

And that is another loss.

But I made a choice.

I chose not to throw away things that could help someone else.

Jaxon had a hospital bed so beautiful that most people would never even know it was a hospital bed.

He had resources that could change someone else’s life.

And how dare I allow my devastation to stop the gift of Jaxon’s life from continuing to give.

But could you imagine the pain of a mother watching her son’s room being carried away?

That is grief.

That is real.

Choose the Right Thing

Sometimes your only job in someone’s grief is simple.

Be kind.

Kindness costs nothing.

Yet in the world we live in today, it seems to be one of the most expensive things people are unwilling to give.

Kindness requires awareness.

Kindness requires intention.

Kindness requires choosing and doing the right thing.

Scripture reminds us:

“Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”

— Galatians 6:2

Sometimes the holiest thing you can do is simply show up well.

And sometimes the bravest thing a grieving person can do is keep choosing hope in the middle of devastation.

So today, even in grief, I remain what I call myself.

A hope dealer.

Because grief may have shattered my world.

But it will never take my purpose.

A Prayer for the Grieving Heart

Abba,

You are the God who sees every tear and understands every silent ache.

Your Word tells us that You are close to the brokenhearted, and today we lean into that promise.

For every person reading this who is walking through grief, devastation, confusion, or loss, meet them exactly where they are.

Give them strength for the moments when the pain feels overwhelming.

Give them peace for the nights when their mind will not rest.

Give them comfort in the spaces where the people they love once stood.

Your Word says:

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

— Matthew 5:4

Father, comfort them.

Place people around them who know how to show up with humility, kindness, and compassion.

Give them wisdom to set boundaries.

Give them courage to continue healing.

Give them hope for the days ahead.

And even in grief, remind us that You are still God, still present, and still working.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

“If you’re walking through grief too, keep walking. The valley is real, but so is God.”