Moving Forward Isn't the Same as Moving On

Why healing after the loss of a spouse isn't about leaving them behind

Moving on.

It's one of the most common messages widows hear after losing their husbands.

Sometimes it's said outright.

"You need to move on."

Other times it's more subtle.

"It's been a year."
"Don't you think it's time?"
"He would want you to be happy."

The message is the same.

We're expected to grieve for a certain amount of time, and then life is supposed to return to "normal."

Spoiler alert: There will never be the same normal again.

When you've lost your husband, your life changes forever. Nothing about your world is the same. And while life does go on, it never goes back to what it was before.

If we're grieving outside of society's expectations, people often assume we're stuck. That we're dwelling on the past. That we're depressed. That we just need to "get over it."

The truth is, most people simply don't understand grief.

They're uncomfortable around it because they can't fix it. They want to make the pain go away. They want to tie it up in a neat little bow so everyone can feel comfortable again.

But grief doesn't work that way.

Losing your husband isn't a problem to solve. It's a profound, life-altering loss that becomes part of your story forever.

That's why I've never liked the phrase moving on.

To me, moving on sounds like leaving someone behind.

Like closing the door on a chapter that mattered deeply.
Like pretending life is the same when it clearly isn't.

Healing doesn't happen when we move on.
Healing happens when we move forward.

And there is a world of difference between those two ideas.

This post is the first in a new series I'm calling Moving Forward After Losing Your Spouse.

Because after 17 years of widowhood, that's the phrase that makes the most sense to me.

Life after loss isn't about moving on from the person you loved.

It's about learning, one small step at a time, how to keep walking with God while carrying both your love and your loss.

Over the next several weeks, I want to share what moving forward has looked like in my own life. The setbacks, the victories, the questions, the seasons when God felt silent, the people He used to help carry me, the joy that slowly returned, and the faithfulness I've seen through it all.

Because moving forward isn't one big decision.

It's thousands of small ones.

And it looks different for every widow.

 For me, moving forward meant packing up some of Jon's clothes and giving them to people who could use them.
It meant watching home videos with my kids so they could hear their daddy's voice.
It meant saving special things for them to have when they were older.

Four years after Jon died, moving forward meant something much bigger.

It meant packing up our entire house and moving four hours away to be closer to family.
It meant leaving the home Jon and I had built together.
Leaving the church family I loved.
Uprooting my children from the only home they remembered and saying goodbye to the friends who had become like family.

None of those decisions meant I was leaving Jon behind.

They meant I was taking the next step God had placed in front of me.

For someone else, moving forward might look completely different.

It might mean getting out of bed and taking a shower.
It might mean choosing a headstone. (That took me more than three years to do.)
It might mean taking flowers to his grave.
It might mean sorting through his clothes.
It might mean selling his vehicle.

Or it might simply mean making it through today.

There isn't a right way to move forward.
There isn't a timeline.
And there certainly isn't a checklist.

Some days you'll move forward.
Some days you'll feel like you've taken two steps backward.
Some days you'll feel like you're moving sideways, just trying to catch your breath.
And some days, you'll simply be trying to keep your head above water.

Every one of those days is still part of the journey.

But let me encourage you with this.

Moving forward does not mean forgetting.
Moving forward means learning to carry his memory, his love, his legacy, and the life you built together into whatever comes next.

You will never forget your husband.
You will never forget the love you shared.
You will never forget the life you built together.

And no one should expect you to.

The beautiful thing is that you don't have to walk this road alone.

 Psalm 23:4 says,
"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me."

I love that it says we walk through the valley.
Not around it.
Not over it.
Not pretending it doesn't exist.

Through it.

God never promised that the valley would be easy. But He did promise that we would never walk through it alone.

There were many days when I couldn't feel His presence. Days when the grief was so heavy I wondered if I would ever find solid ground again.

But looking back now, I can see that He never left.

He carried me when I couldn't keep going.
He gently guided me when I didn't know what the next step should be.
And He faithfully walked beside me through every season.

If you're a widow reading this today, I want you to know something.

You don't have to move on.
You don't have to leave your husband behind.
You don't have to pretend you're the person you were before loss.

Instead, simply ask God to help you take the next step.

Some days that step will feel small.
Some days it will feel impossibly hard.

But little by little, by His grace, you'll keep moving forward.

And He'll be with you every step of the way.

Next week, we'll talk about something every widow experiences but few people understand: why moving forward often feels like taking two steps forward and one step back.

If you’re walking through loss—or know someone who is, here are three resources I’ve created specifically for grief:
These resources can be used separately or together as a beautiful set. Whether for yourself or as a thoughtful gift, my prayer is that they bring encouragement and hope.




To receive email notifications when a new blog post is live, please subscribe here.
This post may contain affiliate links.

0 Comments

Leave a Comment


Meet Lisa Bailey

 
Life hands you things you don’t expect sometimes.  

When I was 33 years old, I lost my husband to cancer after a 3 ½ year battle.  At the time, I had two small kids and was trying to do it all - homeschooling, run a small business, single parenting, make everything from scratch, eat healthy and take care of myself. I was afraid of stopping. I was afraid of feeling.  I was afraid.

Eventually, my body crashed.  I was grieving deeply, struggling physically, dealing with anxiety, and I didn’t know how to move out of that place.  God orchestrated circumstances and placed people in my life to help me deal with these issues through counseling, moving, and starting fresh.  He opened the door and helped me heal both emotionally and physically, and placed resources in my life that have made a huge difference. 

I now feel better than I have in many years and have healed from many things. Grief still shows up, and I have to pull back and work through it, but because I am healthier, it doesn’t consume me. Restoration and healing didn’t happen overnight, but it did happen.

You don’t have to do this alone.  Let me walk this journey with you to hope and wellness.

Contact