
The quiet losses that unfold over time
Not all losses come at once. Some unfold slowly, and others only become clear much later. When Jon became sick and eventually passed away, I discovered layer after layer of loss I wasn’t prepared for.
Some of those losses happened gradually. As Jon’s cancer progressed, he wasn’t able to handle the responsibilities he once carried. Slowly, the things he took care of became mine to manage. Dinner around the table as a family grew less frequent as his appetite faded. The dreams we once talked about for our future—retirement, travel, growing old together—slipped away piece by piece. And as his illness worsened, my sense of direction vanished. My “map” for life had always included Jon, and when his journey ended, mine felt blank.
Other losses became painfully clear after he was gone. Jon was my safe place. I could share my fears, my struggles, and even my shortcomings without judgment. He knew me completely and loved me anyway. Without him, I felt exposed and unanchored. I also lost my encourager—the one who reminded me of what I was doing well, who cheered me on in motherhood, in faith, and in life. His words carried me through so many seasons, and their absence left a deep silence.

Then there were the practical things. Jon handled car repairs, heavy lifting, and the countless everyday tasks that needed another set of hands. Toward the end, he grew so weak that he couldn’t do even the smallest things. That role reversal—me being the strong one, me holding everything together—was never how I imagined our life would look. And when he was gone, the gaps he left behind felt overwhelming.
It took me a long time to gain my footing again. The losses were so layered that they touched every corner of my life. With God’s help—through prayer, reflection, counseling, and time—I slowly learned to carry them differently.
Maybe you’re realizing that you’ve lost far more than just your loved one, too. Please know it’s normal to feel that weight. Grief is bigger than most people realize, but you don’t have to carry it alone.
Jesus sees every layer of your loss. He offers His comfort, His presence, and His rest—even when the burden feels unbearable.
“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)
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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