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...Yesterday marked 16 years since Jon passed away.
Today would have been our 27th wedding anniversary.
And even now—after all this time—we still miss him. The ache of loss doesn’t vanish. It softens and shifts over time, but it never quite disappears. Especially not during weeks like this.
This week is always difficult. Grief is strange like that—sometimes it’s predictable, and sometimes it catches you off guard in the middle of an ordinary moment. An old photo. A song. A memory. Or just the quiet absence of someone who once filled every part of your life.
Read more...For a long time, I believed I had to choose.
Grief or gratitude.
Brokenness or healing.
Fear or faith.
Love for my late husband or love for someone new.
But God has gently taught me something so powerful—it’s not always either/or. Sometimes, it’s both/and.
There is such freedom in the word AND.
I can grieve AND be grateful.
I can miss what was AND embrace what is.
I can love the life I had AND the life I have now.
I can walk in faith AND still feel fear.
Read more...Being a widow can be messy. Grief is unpredictable and shows up at unexpected times. In late February I had a particularly difficult week.
I took a quick trip to Maine by myself to attend a Celebration of Life for a dear man who had a profound influence in Jon’s life. Jeff was a Godly man that poured his heart and soul into discipleship, and Jon benefited greatly from his ministry. The last time I saw Jeff was in November, and he knew he would not be around much longer. His cancer had spread to his brain, and he was ready. His joy was contagious as he looked forward to Heaven. We had the opportunity to chat, and he said to me, with tears in his eyes, “I can’t wait to pray with Jon again.” We hugged, and that was the last time I saw him.
Read more...
