I didn’t realize that Christmas of 2014 would be the last one I would spend with my dad. Every Christmas since then has felt different. I remember the first couple of Christmases after he passed—they felt duller, less magical. There was a hollow feeling I couldn’t quite put into words, like something essential was missing.

When he passed, as painful as it was, I knew it was part of God’s plan. I believed that God had taken him home because his work here on earth was complete and that he had been welcomed into his heavenly home. I was at peace with that truth. But don’t misunderstand me—grief did not end there. The years that followed have been an unpredictable, up-and-down roller coaster of emotions that I still don’t fully understand. And I know many of you can relate.

Grief comes fast like a cheetah, quiet like a fox, and it changes like a chameleon. It cannot be defined by one simple description, and it looks different for everyone. Grief can make you feel isolated and alone. It can convince you that the chaos in your mind will never quiet. It can even make you feel as though all hope is lost. But what makes the weight of grief bearable is allowing God to walk through it with you.

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

Matthew 5:4

One of the names we call God is The Comforter. As a child, that name always made me smile because I imagined a literal bed comforter. But as an adult who has had to lean deeply into The Comforter, I now understand the weight and beauty of that name. When grief burrows deep and the pain feels overwhelming, God meets us there with peace…peace that surpasses all understanding.

So many nights, I would lie awake and speak God’s promises over my life. And in doing so, He drew nearer. It felt as though He wrapped me in those promises, holding me steady when everything else felt uncertain.

Now, sitting here in the soft glow of Christmas lights, my thoughts naturally turn to my dad. He always made such a big deal about giving gifts. He put genuine thought into every single one, and there was always a story attached. He would hand you the gift, tell you to open it, and then would explain why he chose it or what happened when he bought it. His eyes always sparkled with excitement as he waited to see your reaction. Joy radiated from him and it was impossible not to feel it.

As meaningful as receiving a gift from my dad was, nothing compares to the gifts God gives His children. During this season especially, it’s important to pause and truly acknowledge the greatest gift of all: Jesus. That truth was placed at the forefront of my life growing up. My dad knew that this gift was the most important one I would ever receive.

Through the tears and the pain of losing the most important man in my life, I am able to find comfort in knowing he made sure I understood where to turn in every season, toward God. Teaching me that truth was one of the most noble things he ever did.

As we enter the week of Christmas, I know many are struggling with where grief fits into an already busy and emotionally charged season. For some, the heaviness of grief feels like too much to bear, and it quickly can become overwhelming. For others, boxing grief up and tucking it away just to survive the holidays feels like the only option.

I’ve been on both ends of that spectrum.

But let me gently challenge you with this: let’s give room for grief this holiday season. Mourning those we love not only helps us heal, it keeps their memory close.

Here are a few intentional ways to create space for grief:

1. Carve out intentional time to sit with memories and allow yourself to feel what comes. If it helps, give yourself a time limit.
2. Write down what you’re feeling. Putting thoughts on paper helps release them from your mind and makes the chaos feel more manageable.
3. Share your favorite memories with someone you love. Talking about your loved one with others allows them to stay close and the memories to remain vivid.
4. Speak God’s truth over your life—out loud, with as much confidence as you can muster.

Grief is hard. Ten years later, I still have hard days. Remembering that grief is not linear and it looks different for everyone is essential to healing. Give yourself grace. Keep moving forward. And most importantly, lean into The Comforter. He is right there with you.

There is no part of you that is too messy for God. He knows every part of you and still wants every part of you. And if you don’t yet know Him, there is no greater gift you could receive this holiday season than the gift of salvation. If you have questions or need prayer, reach out through the prayer request box at the bottom of the homepage.

We are on this journey together, friends.

I am so glad you are here.