Blog
From and about women who love Jesus and want to share His message through Scripture, everyday inspirations, and relatable stories.
“The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God” (1 Corinthians 2:10). Life feels . . . complicated right now. I’m overwhelmed in ways that I find hard to explain, even to myself. Some of it’s due to turmoil in our country and in the world, much of it is due to turmoil inside. And none of it can easily be put into words.
“Here’s the thing about relationships,” the speaker said as he continued his talk. My husband and I held hands, sitting close together in a large ballroom with hundreds of other couples investing in their marriages. “You’re always moving. I don’t mean physically; I mean that you’re always drifting towards either isolation or oneness with your spouse. There’s no sitting still.”
Last week, I shared why “I understand what you’re going through” creates more harm than healing for grievers—how it demands emotional labor, erases uniqueness, and builds walls instead of bridges. Today, I want to show you what actually works. But first, there’s one more way “I understand” misses the mark that I’d like to address.
In the early days after my husband died, cards flooded my mailbox. Cards with lilies and Scripture, promising “God’s got you” and “They’re in a better place”—filled with genuine care and beautiful words.
“Elvis! Wake up!” I yelled at my phone. Elvis wasn’t answering. Again. My son turned eighteen in August. Although it’s technically his senior year of high school, he only needed one class to graduate, so he enrolled at our local college full-time in the fall. Graduation was on the horizon, as long as he passed his stats class.
The delicious aroma of chicken Provencal and haricots verts greeted my husband and me, as did a jazzy playlist and my friend Shena and her husband Shawn giving us warm, welcoming hugs. The four of us immediately broke into lovely, lively conversation that continued for three hours nonstop.
There are lots of questions I’ve asked God as a result of being single for the entirety of my adult life.
I recently replayed a conversation with a friend. Something about it left me unsettled. You probably know the mental gymnastics I performed afterward. Did I say too much? Not enough? Did she hear what I meant—or only what I said?
