Posted: June 3, 2025
I often hear grieving people say: “No one ever told me it would be like this. One moment you feel composed, like you may be able to handle it. The next, a smell, song or the name of a restaurant strikes like lightening.” There is no logic to grief. Nogrie timeline, seven steps or neat stages to follow to get you through the most painful journey you will ever take. I call it the grief monster. It has different colours, voices and moods. It’s like a cycle that loops, jumps, surprises and shifts.
Grief is a monster that comes out of nowhere.
I believe that is why people shy away from us because they don’t know what to do with us or what to say. It seems all wrong. Of course people want to support us but most often words fall short and well-meaning cliches, Bible verses or quotes feel so hollow. There is no perfect word or answer, it is not something you “get over.” It’s something that people in grief learn to carry. And it’s hard. You see, the loss of your loved one didn’t just leave a dark hole, it changes the entire fabric of your life. Grief is an echo that shouts: “You loved deeply and now this love has no place to go.” This person you loved so deeply is entwined in your identity, lifestyle, friendships, finances, food and every part of your being. Having lost that is almost unbearable. Most people never understand this and that is why grief is so lonely.
Grief reshapes our whole world.
Grief has changed me and many people don’t like it. I no longer have time for small stuff, people who are not kind or don’t care. Grief changes the script we’ve become familiar with. One morning we wake up and the world is no longer the way we’ve known it to be. Now that I understand the pain of grief I’ve become deeply empathic to other people’s pain. I recognize that our time on earth is fragile and often short, and we have to make the most of every moment. Not just for our own interests but for the care and well being for others. I see so much loss and pain in our world and now I not only see it but I can feel it. That’s something we can never predict or make happen on our own human efforts.
Grief affects our brains.
Grief affects our brains. Our brains form deep emotional ties and associations with our loved ones and those connections do not disappear with loss. It often registers emotional pain similar to physical pain. Grief can cause headaches, stomach aches, chest tightness and other physical and emotional and puts your entire system on edge. It takes a long time for the brain to rebalance and heal. In the meantime, the predictability of healing and moving forward in the healing journey is completely unpredictable. May the Good Shepherd, the comforter, healer and guide, help you understand and find healing and comfort every step of the way.
Heidi McLaughlin is an award winning author and international speaker. Heidi has been widowed twice and understands the painful journey of grief. She has been facilitating Grief Share for 7 years and has walked alongside over 500 people in their grief journey. Heid shares her stories in her books, on The Perspective TV show with Mike Sherbino, many blogs, articles and speaking events around the globe. It is Heidi’s passion to help people understand their grief, and help them find healing and hope through the power of the Holy Spirit, and the comforter our God Shepherd Jesus Christ. You can contact Heidi at: heidi@heartconnection.ca
Thank you for this. Tomorrow marks 8 months since my husband passed away. I have experienced everything you mentioned and how I my emotions can shift in a moment. I especially liked “The loss of your loved one didn’t just leave a dark hole, it changes the entire fabric of your life.”
The Lord is faithful in guiding and comforting me along this most difficult journey. Blessings to you, Heidi.
Thank you Tandy for your comment, you are still in the raw and unpredictable stage of grief and my deepest empathy for all you are going through. May God be with you, comfort you and guide you every step of the way as you find hope and healing. Lovingly, Heidi