THE POWER OF LOVE FOUND IN GRIEF

The power of love can be profoundly evident in grief. In 2020, my world shattered into pieces with the death of my mother. Grief, in its rawest form, burst the strings of my heart, distorting the melody of love that once played so beautifully. Her passing shook everything in me, including my faith. I found myself asking God endless questions, grappling with the depths of loss.

I remember those days vividly. COVID restrictions were in place, and every morning at 5 a.m., I made my way to the hospital to care for her. I cleaned her up, prayed with her, and sang the songs she loved. The last song she requested was “It Is Well With My Soul.” Even now, that song holds a sacred place in my heart, echoing both love and loss.

On July 21, 2021, I saw my mother in a body bag. The tag on it displayed the date of her “expiration.” The sight left me in shock. I climbed on top of her lifeless body, crying out for her to open her eyes. In that moment, I became a five-year-old child again, desperate for my mother to respond. The pain was unbearable, a level of brokenness I never thought possible. Depression seeped in; I stopped bathing for days and lived in darkness and solitude for months. I hated grief. It felt like a thief, stealing not just my mother but my hope.

Eventually, I sought help from a therapist, and with consistent effort, I began to engage in the healing process. But healing is never linear, and grief has a way of resurfacing when you least expect it.

On December 16, 2024, my heart shattered once more. One of my closest friends, a sister in every sense of the word, tragically lost her life in a fire along with two of her children. I remember calling her the day before, feeling an inexplicable urge to check on her. She couldn’t speak at the time, but I had no idea it would be our last interaction. The 5 a.m. call the next day wasn’t the one I anticipated. It felt like 2021 all over again. This time, the drumbeats of my heart became silent. I was engulfed by grief once more, questioning God and wrestling with the pain of sudden loss.

But something shifted. Amid the mourning, I cursed grief but also began to see it differently. I mourned with hope—a hope that this pain had a purpose. Through prayer and therapy, the revelation of God blew my mind. He whispered to me, “The depth of grief is a mirror of the power of love.”

Those words unlocked a new understanding. Grief, as painful as it is, exists because of love. The deeper the grief, the greater the love we shared. It’s a reflection of the bond that transcends time and space. Grief doesn’t diminish love; it amplifies it. In mourning, we honor the beauty of our connections, even as we navigate their absence.

This revelation didn’t erase my pain, but it reframed it. Grief is no longer just a thief to me. It’s also a testament. It’s proof that I loved deeply, and I was loved deeply in return. It’s a sacred space where pain and love coexist, teaching us about resilience, healing, and the enduring power of connection.

To those grieving, know this: your pain is valid, but so is the love that underpins it. Let grief be a reminder of the capacity of your heart. Allow it to teach you, heal you, and lead you to a deeper understanding of love’s eternal power. The beauty of love often burns brightest in the ashes of loss.

The depth of our love is sometimes captured in our tears- SEW