When Thanksgiving Feels Heavy, Not HappyThanksgiving is on Thursday. This can be such a difficult holiday for so many. And perhaps you find yourself dreading it this year.
Maybe there’s an empty chair at the table that didn’t used to be there.
Perhaps the traditions you once held so tightly now feel unimportant.
Maybe instead of excitement and anticipation, you’re feeling sadness and dread.
Perhaps the traditions you once held so tightly now feel unimportant.
Maybe instead of excitement and anticipation, you’re feeling sadness and dread.
It’s okay if you aren’t looking forward to Thanksgiving. You don’t have to force gratitude that isn’t genuine. God isn’t disappointed in you for feeling the weight of your loss.
And maybe things need to be different this year.
When I was deep in grief during those first few holidays, it was hard to get into the spirit of the season. I missed Jon so much and felt like grief would always be heavy. It was easy to give in to despair and anger – and for a while, I did – but that only made the heaviness worse. Over time, I found I had to be intentional with my thoughts. Choosing to focus on Christ and His promises helped me notice the small blessings right in front of me. It didn’t take away the grief, but it helped refocus my heart so I wouldn’t stay trapped in isolation and bitterness.
I want to encourage you to look for the small things that offer joy — the things that give you even a moment of peace. Reflect on how God has sustained you so far.
This Thanksgiving, maybe gratitude isn’t found in the feast, the gathering, or the traditions. Maybe it’s simply in pausing to remember the goodness and faithfulness of God — even here, even now. You don’t have to be excited or go all out this year. Maybe just sitting in the quiet, reflecting on God’s promises, is enough. Promises like:
“I will never leave you nor forsake you.” — Hebrews 13:5
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted.” — Psalm 34:18
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” — Matthew 5:4
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end.” — Lamentations 3:22–23
“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more.” — Revelation 21:4
These promises don’t erase the pain, but they remind us that our pain isn’t the end of the story. Gratitude begins here — not in pretending everything is okay, but in remembering and choosing to focus on God, who is still faithful, still near, and still good.This Thanksgiving, even if gratitude looks different than it used to, may you find comfort in knowing that God is still with you — holding you, sustaining you, and giving you enough grace for today.
If you’re walking through grief and need a quiet place to process, I have created resources specifically for you in my Etsy shop, HOPE & HARMONY PAGES. These three digital printables work on their own and hand in hand with each other:
30 SCRIPTURE CARDS FOR GRIEF. If you know someone these might encourage, I would be honored if you’d share these resources—and my blog—with them.
Gratitude Doesn't Cancel Grief
The first time I didn’t cry myself to sleep after my husband passed, I felt guilty.
Was I forgetting him?
Was I forgetting him?
When I found myself enjoying little blessings — a kind friend who showed up with a meal, the sand in my toes at the beach, or a song that brought comfort — I wondered if my grief was fading.
It sometimes felt like if I was happy or enjoying something, I wasn’t missing Jon enough. But that simply wasn’t true.
It took me a long time to realize that gratitude doesn’t erase grief. They can exist together. Both can be true.
Read more...When Gratitude Feels Impossible
Grief is hard.
It’s heavy.
It’s an impossible burden to carry.
It’s heavy.
It’s an impossible burden to carry.
It feels like you’re always going to feel this way. You’re angry, sad, overwhelmed, and completely spent. There are endless questions — Why did this happen? Why do I have to feel this way? When will it stop? You can’t imagine ever moving through the grief to the other side. And part of you doesn’t even want to, because that might mean you’re forgetting.
Grief can feel intense, exhausting, and completely unfair.
I get it. I experienced all of this when my husband passed. Some days, the weight of it all made it nearly impossible to get out of bed. Other days brought a brief sense of relief — only to be followed by guilt because maybe I wasn't missing him enough.
Read more...The Endless To-Do List
Lately, I’ve been in what I like to call “solving mode” — constantly tweaking my schedule, trying new systems, and chasing that elusive balance. It seems like every time I finally get into a good rhythm… something happens to derail it.
And then the stress hits — not because I’m lazy or unmotivated, but because my to-do list is (if I’m honest) completely unreasonable. Every time I look at it, I can feel the weight settle in my chest, knowing I’ll never accomplish everything I’ve written down. So why do I keep adding more?
I think there are a few reasons.
Sometimes, it’s because I don’t want to forget something I’d like to do “someday.” Other times, it’s because I love the idea of a project — even if I know deep down I’ll probably never get around to it. But if I’m really honest, the biggest reason is that I’ve bought into what our culture keeps shouting: that my worth is tied to how much I do.
Read more...Creating a Healing Environment at Home
Working through grief takes time, prayer, and grace. It also takes mental clarity—something that’s hard to find when our bodies are burdened by toxins.
Every day, we’re surrounded by chemicals that may seem harmless but quietly add to our toxic load: synthetic fragrances, harsh cleaners, and products that promise “freshness” but leave behind unseen residue. When our bodies are constantly working to detoxify, it can leave us drained—physically and emotionally.
I’ve learned firsthand that grief recovery isn’t just emotional or spiritual; it’s physical too. Our bodies carry the weight of our emotions, and when they’re overwhelmed, everything feels harder. But when we remove unnecessary toxins, we lighten that load. Suddenly, there’s more space for peace, energy, and hope to take root.
Read more...
