Grief breaks you wide open, but if you let it, it can also transform you. Nine months into this journey, I’ve felt the shifts—the relationships that fade, the ones that remain, and the unexpected new ones that walk in. Through it all, I’ve learned that leaning in—to God, to love, to healing—is the only way through.

Eight months without Joe, and grief still comes in waves—sometimes like a rip tide, sometimes like a light switch flipping on and off. But healing is a process, not a moment. I’m learning to name my emotions, flip the script, and step forward in faith. Because even in the darkness, God’s light is always there, waiting to be revealed.

Seven months into grief, I feel the tide shifting. The waves still come, but they no longer pull me under. Life is finding a new rhythm—one filled with joy, healing, and dreams for the future. Grief doesn’t end, but I am learning to embrace the changing current and trust where it takes me.

The start of a new year feels different after loss. Moving forward isn’t about leaving Joe behind—it’s about carrying him with us as we dream, plan, and embrace what’s ahead. Grief and joy exist together, and as we step into this new season, we choose to cherish the past while creating new memories. 

Six months without Joe—183 days of grief, healing, and remembering that every moment matters. This journey has deepened my faith and led me to a new calling: Healing Journeys with Jesus, a podcast dedicated to sharing stories of trials, hope, and God’s hand in our lives. Every moment—no matter how small—is part of His greater plan.

Nothing prepares you for the first Christmas after loss. The empty stocking with Joe’s initial hangs quietly on our mantle, a reminder of his love for this season. While grief is present, so is gratitude. We are choosing to fill the emptiness with love, memories, and the joy he brought into our lives.

Dropping my daughter off at college was a whirlwind of emotions—excitement for her dreams coming true and heartache for the distance that now separates us. As she embarks on this new chapter, I’m left navigating life with a quieter home and a full heart. These are the 75 life lessons I hope I’ve taught my daughters—words of wisdom to guide them as they soar.

Yesterday, I attended the funeral of a woman I had never met in person—only to find myself at a church event later that evening centered around the theme of breath. In God’s divine timing, I was reminded to slow down, embrace the moment, and trust that even in grief, there is renewal. Life is fragile, love is precious, and every breath is a gift.

Four months without Joe. Grief still lingers, but it has softened. A quiet weekend at the beach became a turning point—a battle between sorrow and healing, between fear and faith. In the stillness, I realized that moving forward isn’t forgetting; it’s honoring. And in this war against grief, each moment of peace is a victory.

Three months without Joe. Grief has brought darkness, but every morning, the sun rises—reminding us that light and life still remain. Each day, we choose to find joy, to keep moving forward, and to embrace the love and memories he left behind. Even in sorrow, we are learning to live again.

Fear is a thief of joy, but God is our shield. In my grief, fear has tried to shake me, steal my peace, and cripple my faith—but it has failed. Through prayer, scripture, and unwavering trust in God, I have found strength beyond my own. If you’re battling fear, know this: God’s got you. He always has, and He always will.

This morning, I slept in—and in that quiet moment, God revealed something profound. Obedience to Him isn’t just about discipline; it’s about trust, surrender, and finding His presence in every season of life. Through prayer, journaling, and unexpected confirmations from loved ones, I was reminded that God surrounds us with love and protection, even in the hardest moments.

Grief fog is real. After loss, the brain struggles to process the new reality, leaving us forgetful, scattered, and emotionally drained. Learn why grief affects the brain and how to navigate this overwhelming season with patience and grace.

Grief feels like time moving too fast and too slow at the same time. Just two weeks after losing Joe, I find myself navigating this new reality—one breath, one moment, one step at a time. In the midst of deep sorrow, I see God’s fingerprints in the journey, reminding me that healing isn’t about figuring it all out at once, but about taking the next right step.