Grief: The Emotion That Sneaks Up on You

Grief—it’s a strange emotion, isn’t it?

It doesn’t always make an entrance. It doesn’t knock. Sometimes, it just shows up uninvited, out of nowhere, in the middle of a moment that feels completely ordinary.

For me, it happened in the middle of recording the news.

Now, you might be thinking, “Well, the news is heavy—maybe it was something you were working on?”
And sure, some stories do hit hard. But unless I’ve been carrying around some very deep feelings about the fact that Jersey Milk chocolate bars are being discontinued (RIP), I don’t think that was it.

This was something deeper. Something unexpected.

Psychology Today defines grief as “the acute pain that accompanies loss.” And it’s not just about the loss of a person—it’s about anything we’ve loved and lost. Grief follows its own path, and no two people walk it quite the same way. It’s loud for some, quiet for others. It can stretch on for years, or catch you off guard on a Tuesday afternoon when you’re just trying to do your job.

Earlier this summer, someone close to our family passed away. It was unexpected and really hard to wrap my head around. He was the kind of person who just quietly showed up for people, and losing him hit differently.

The loss was sudden.
And it hit hard.

It wasn’t just grief for the life lost—it was for the family, for the friendships, for the absence that can’t be filled. But what I didn’t expect was how it opened up other layers of grief I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying.

It stirred up things I hadn’t fully named—old disappointments, unmet expectations, dreams I’d shelved without even realizing it.

And with a milestone birthday around the corner, I found myself doing what so many of us do: measuring where I am against where I thought I’d be.

Spoiler: six-year-old me had some big dreams.

There were ponies. A mansion. A pool. A shiny car. Fame. Fortune. Possibly a glittering tiara or two.
None of which, for the record, are currently in my possession (though I do have a lovely vintage car and I still ask for a pony every birthday—never hurts to keep trying, right?).

But the truth is, I do have a life I love. A peaceful home. People who care about me. A career that lets me connect with others. Privacy. Quiet moments. A God who still shows up for me in the middle of the mess.

It’s not the life I once dreamed of. But it’s mine. And I’m deeply grateful for it.

A Book That Met Me in the Middle of It

Since I started writing this blog, I’ve been leaning into that grief a little more. Not rushing past it. Not stuffing it down. Just letting myself be honest with it.

And in the middle of that, I stumbled across something that’s been helping.
One day, I was looking for some comfort reading—something soft, something real—and I found a devotional called For When Dreams Die by Rachel Marie Kang. That led me to her book, The Matter of Little Losses.

It has been such a gift.

Her words have helped me sit with my grief, really see it, and start to gently sort through it.
Not to fix it. Not to tie it up in a bow.
But to hold it with tenderness.
To understand it.
To feel a little less alone in it.

Rachel’s writing is honest and gentle in all the best ways—it’s been offering me perspective, insight, and that rare kind of comfort that meets you exactly where you are.

If You're Carrying Quiet Grief...

If you’ve been carrying your own quiet grief, not just for someone you’ve lost, but maybe for:

• the version of life you thought you’d be living by now,
• the career that didn’t take off,
• the relationship that ended,
• the plans that changed,
• the timeline that’s no longer on schedule.

If your dreams have shifted, or if they feel further away than you imagined—they’re not lost.
They’ve just changed shape.

You’re not behind. You’re not broken.
You’re growing. You’re becoming. You’re still in it.

It’s okay to mourn the things that didn’t happen and still be grateful for what has.
It’s okay to wish for more and love what you already have.

Your story isn’t over. It’s unfolding.
And who you are—right now, in the middle of the mess and the beauty—is worthy of love, kindness, and grace.

So if today feels heavy, or your heart is tired, or your timeline feels like it’s in the recycle bin, I just want to say:

Your grief matters. 
And you don’t have to walk through it alone.

🕊️ A Moment of Reflection

I know not everyone’s grief looks the same. Maybe you’ve experienced deep, life-altering loss… or maybe you’ve just felt a slow ache for the things you hoped for that haven’t come to pass.
Wherever you are, I want to share a few things that brought me comfort—especially in those moments when I didn’t have the words or strength to pray.

🎶 Songs That Helped Me Breathe Again

💿 “Honest” – Leanna Crawford
This one’s for the moments when you’re asking hard questions, when your faith feels a little shaky, and you’re just trying to hold on. I’ve had days like that—where I knew God was still there, but I needed to say, “God, I’m struggling here. Can You just remind me You’ve still got this?”  This song gave me permission to be real with God. He can handle our honesty.

“Your kindness never fails, it's always reaching after me / But right now, God, all I need is to be honest.”

💿 “I Am Not Alone” – Kari Jobe
This is the one I go to when everything feels dark and quiet. When I need a reminder that even if no one else sees the tears or the wrestling—God does. He’s walking with me, even when it feels like I’m wandering.

“You will go before me / You will never leave me.”

💿 “Lord, I Need You” – Matt Maher
This is my anchor song. I memorized it during a panic attack, when I didn’t know how to calm myself or what to pray. I wrote the lyrics out over and over until my mind slowed down and my heart stopped racing.
Now, it’s the song I turn to when I’m overwhelmed and can’t quite explain what I need—I just start singing or whispering the words: “Lord, I need You.”

📖 Scriptures That Gave Me Something to Hold Onto

When the emotions felt too big or too tangled to untangle, these verses grounded me. I didn’t always feel strong. I didn’t always feel full of faith. But these promises reminded me that God’s presence is steady—even when my emotions aren’t.

Isaiah 41:10 (CSB)

"Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will hold on to you with my righteous right hand."

Psalm 126:5 (CSB)

"Those who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy."

Isaiah 51:11-12 (CSB)

"And the redeemed of the LORD will return and come to Zion with singing,
crowned with unending joy. Joy and gladness will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee.
I—I am the one who comforts you."