on being brave when you’re grieving.

brave . . .

brave image

In the past few years, my heart has become heavy with the burden to serve and love people who grieve over lost expectations.

Grief when things don’t turn out like we think they will, like we hope they might. Grief over hopes unfulfilled, dreams unreached, status quo not met. Grief when things are messier than we thought, harder than we anticipated, just plain crappy.

. . . when the dream job ended

. . . when that friendship ended in turmoil

. . . when the relationship didn’t end happily ever after

. . . when the bank account moved from black to red

. . . when there’s no white picket fence in sight

. . . when no invitation arrived

. . . when the transcript looks dreary

. . . when the doctor gave the diagnosis

. . . when the baby never got to your arms

. . . when he got the promotion instead

That’s grief. Grieving over lost expectations is real. It’s raw. It’s painful.

Our world has a bad, bad habit of shaming us in the face of grief. The world tells us to get over it, get past it, deal with it, move forward, move on, get through it. Yeah, there is a time to make peace with grief. But when grief is a verb and we put I am in front of grieving . . . it’s active. And it calls for bravery.

To you, dear friends, who grieve over lost expectations alongside me, I say this: to grieve is to be brave. You have big, big, big hearts. And when your yearning to love or give or work or grow or thrive or see or live isn’t fulfilled . . . oh, loves, we walk that road with bravery.

Grieving with bravery means we look grief in the face. Grieving with bravery means crying, if we need to. Feeling our pain and not losing faith. Confiding in community, even when just speaking feels insurmountable. Being brave in grief is taking deep breath after deep breath after deep breath. Sometimes, grieving bravely just means putting one foot in front of the other.

Brave step by brave step.

(God is behind you all the way.)

Linking up today with Five Minute Friday. Today’s prompt was brave. 

19 thoughts on “on being brave when you’re grieving.

  1. Sweet Sarah, I love this and I needed it today. We haven’t talked in so long! I’ve started a new blog after my life has been turned upside down in the last year. (Katie@simplyhis if you remember me) I’d love to reconnect! ❤

    • KATIE!! You have no idea how happy I am to reconnect with you! Oh friend, my heart is cheering you on in your new adventures. Let’s get back in touch, please-oh-please! Would you send me your new email address? sarahkoci at gmail dot com! I would love to hear your story, friend.

  2. This is a beautiful post. It does take a certain amount of bravery while grieving… especially in the face of the challenges you mentioned, such as people telling you you should get over it and move on. Lovely post.

  3. Sarah I love this. Thanks for sharing your heart. Yes. Grieving well is brave. You write like you know it deeply – this journey. And like you’ve encountered Him in the depths of it. May you continue to experience His heart in it all.

  4. .. there is no ‘just’ in grief .. “just remember the good times, just get on with your life, just go out and get a new one ..(husband, wife, boy/girlfriend, pet, beloved..) just get out of the house, just get back to work, just get back into life .. there is no just ..for those who ache raw fresh grief …

    • Sorry, I don´t have a rhyme for youJust wanted to sayhow do you do?, I sit on my chairwith freshly washed hair,and thinking of you,and wishing you weleW.lll, I think it is coolto drink a hot cocoa,but, Sbucks, come on!I think you are loca hahaha,No, It´s ok, drink all Sbucks drinks you like and have fun!!El cuña-o!

    • Nunca relacioné los cuervos con su mala fama literaria (el cuervo Never More y lo demás). Me gustan. El negro iridiscente de sus plumas me parece elegante discreto al lado del plumaje carnavalesco de otras aves. En la aldea de mis abuelos eran los grandes enemigos del maíz y más de una vez ayudé a fabricar espantapájaros supuestamente horripilantes… Era genail ver como, al día siguiente, los cuervos lo habían convertido en aliado y se le posaban en el sombrero.Graba más secuencias de tu trayecto casi nocturno. Es preciosa.

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