Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. And if you’re grieving, it can feel like a slap in the face. The cards. The chocolate. The flowers. Romantic movies. Couples celebrating each other. Everywhere you look, you are reminded of love, and the person you no longer have beside you. He’s not there to take you to dinner or give you flowers. She’s not handing you a card with a silly inside joke, just for you.It’s hard to be reminded of what we’ve lost.
It’s painful to no longer receive the love that once felt so steady and secure.
You still love them deeply, but that love is no longer expressed in the same way.
This was so hard for me. I deeply loved Jon, and I missed him terribly. He was so good at telling me what he loved and valued about me on a regular basis, not just Valentine’s Day. He’d write me notes or call me from work and speak words of affirmation that strengthened my heart. Then suddenly, those words were gone.
The silence was deafening.
Grief consumed me. I was exhausted from trying to hold everything together. Slowly, I slipped into hopelessness and despair. Anxiety tightened its grip. Depression darkened everything. I felt like I was drowning emotionally, grasping for something, anything, to steady me.
So how do we survive something like this?
How do we navigate the loneliness without giving in to despair?
God’s love.
“For God so loved the world, that He gave His one and only Son. That whoever believes in Him, might not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16)
In the middle of my grief, I had lost sight of that love. I was so focused on what had been taken from me that I had forgotten what could never be taken away.
God’s love is not fragile. It is not seasonal. It is not dependent on circumstances. It does not disappear with death.
Romans 5:3–5 reminds us that even suffering produces endurance, character, and hope — “and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.”
God is not stingy with His love. He pours it out lavishly on us. And as He does, He gives us something our grieving hearts desperately need. Hope.
Not wishful thinking.
Not pretending everything will be okay.
But anchored, steady hope in Christ.
Romans 8:38–39 reminds us that nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Not death. Not life. Not grief. Not fear. Not the overwhelming weight of single parenting. Not the ache of an empty bed or a quiet house. Nothing.
When I truly began to grasp that — that even death could not separate me from God’s love — something shifted. I had lost Jon. That reality did not change. But I had not lost the love of God. And because His love holds me, sustains me, and promises eternal life through Christ, I also have the unshakeable hope of heaven.
That hope is not just for someday. It carries us through today.
Hope reminds us that this world is not the end of the story.
Hope reminds us that grief does not have the final word.
Hope reminds us that love is not extinguished by death; it is fulfilled in eternity.
As God gently and faithfully reminded me of these truths, I let them wash over my heart like a healing balm. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, He began breathing life back into my weary soul. The despair that once felt suffocating loosened its grip. Not because my circumstances changed — but because my foundation did.
I was still a widow.
I was still a single mom.
The grief was still heavy.
But I was no longer without hope.
God’s love became my anchor. His promises became my steady ground. And the more I fixed my eyes on His love, the love proven at the cross and secured through the resurrection, the more confident I became that He would carry me through every lonely holiday, every hard night, every wave of sorrow.
Valentine’s Day may still ache. Missing your spouse will always be painful. But you are not unloved. You are not forgotten. You are not abandoned.
You are deeply, permanently, eternally loved by a God whose love does not fade, does not fail, and does not leave.
And because of that love, you have hope, real hope, that will not disappoint.
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.
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