Updates from Lisa Bailey

Moving Forward After Losing Your Spouse (part 3)

Fri, 14 Aug 2026 11:15:37 CDT

When It Feels Like God Is Silent

Where is God when you're grieving?

“Where is God when you're grieving?”

It's a question almost every widow asks at some point.

Sometimes we don't say it out loud because we're afraid of what it means.

If God feels silent, does that mean I don't have enough faith?

Maybe I haven't prayed enough.

Maybe I haven't read enough Scripture.

Maybe I haven't trusted Him enough.

Maybe if I just did more, He would finally show me what to do.

I've been there.

After Jon died, I went through some very dark valleys when it felt like God wasn't there.

I struggled with depression and anxiety for a long time. During this season, I was reading my Bible. I was praying. I was trying to understand what God was doing and trying desperately to trust Him in the middle of it.

But God seemed silent.

The God I loved and trusted wasn't showing me the way out.

It was the hardest season of my life.

And when you're hurting that deeply, it's easy to turn inward.

Why me?

Why did Jon have to die?

Why am I struggling so much?

When is this going to end?

I was still grieving deeply, and it felt like there was no relief in sight.

And then there was the spiritual guilt.

I felt like I should be trusting God more.

I should be doing better.

I should have more faith.

Moving Forward After Losing Your Spouse (Part 2)

Wed, 05 Aug 2026 14:33:50 CDT

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Why Grief Feels Like You're Going Backward

Losing my husband has been the most difficult experience of my life.

Just trying to process the reality of it was overwhelming. My mind knew Jon had died, but my heart didn't want to believe it. For a while, I lived in denial and tried to carry on like it hadn't happened.

But it had.

And eventually I had to face it.

As I began trying to figure out what life was going to look like without Jon, I felt like I kept running into a brick wall. We had been married for 11 years, and my life revolved around him, especially after he got sick. Suddenly, all of that was gone, and I felt completely lost.

There would be moments when the grief would ease, and I would start to feel like I was finally moving forward.

Then, out of nowhere, something would trigger it, and I would feel like I was right back to the day he died.

Moving Forward After Losing Your Spouse (part 1)

Wed, 29 Jul 2026 11:30:04 CDT

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.

What People Don't Understand About Widowhood (part 6)

Mon, 29 Jun 2026 14:44:01 CDT

After 17 Years of Widowhood, Here's What I Know for Sure

Lessons From a Life Rebuilt After Loss

When Jon died, I couldn't imagine what my life would look like seventeen years later.

Honestly, I was just trying to make it through the next day.

The next week.

The next month.

Thinking years into the future felt impossible.

But now, with nearly seventeen years between me and that devastating loss, there are a few things I know for sure.

First, grief changes.

It doesn't disappear.

It doesn't end.

But it changes.

The crushing weight of the early days eventually becomes easier to carry.

The sharp edges soften.

The tears become less frequent.

The love remains.

What People Don't Understand About Widowhood (part 5)

Mon, 29 Jun 2026 14:33:47 CDT

The Things That Still Surprise Me About Grief

What 17 Years of Widowhood Has Taught Me

Today it has been 17 years since Jon passed.

Tomorrow would have been our 28th wedding anniversary.

It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at the same time.

I used to think grief would eventually stop surprising me.

I assumed that after enough time had passed, I would know what to expect.

But 17 years later, grief still catches me off guard sometimes.

Not in the overwhelming way it did in the beginning.

But in quieter, more unexpected ways.

The biggest surprise is often how ordinary the moments are.

Sometimes something happens and my first thought is still, "I need to tell Jon about this."

It's usually something small.

A funny story.

A memory that surfaces out of nowhere.

Finding something in his handwriting.

What People Don't Understand About Widowhood (part 4)

Wed, 24 Jun 2026 11:04:36 CDT

Remarriage Didn't Erase My First Marriage

Loving Again After Loss

One of the biggest misconceptions people have about widowhood is that remarriage somehow closes the chapter on grief.

As if finding love again erases the love that came before it.

As if saying "I do" a second time somehow means the loss no longer matters.

But that has not been my experience.

When Jon passed away, I never imagined I would get remarried someday and for a while I resisted the idea. In those early years, I was focused on raising my kids, surviving grief, and figuring out how to navigate a life I never planned.

The future felt uncertain enough without trying to imagine another relationship.

Years later, when I met Heath, I found myself walking into a new season of life that I hadn't expected.

A beautiful season.

A healing season.

A season filled with new memories, new traditions, and new joy.

What People Don't Understand About Widowhood (part 3)

Wed, 24 Jun 2026 10:27:40 CDT

Why Moving On Isn’t My Goal

Learning to carry grief instead of leaving it behind

One of the phrases I’ve never quite connected with after loss is the idea of “moving on.”

It sounds neat. Clean. Final.

As if grief is something you eventually walk away from, close the door on, and leave behind.

But that has never been my experience. And I truly don’t think that’s how healing works.

After Jon passed away, I remember feeling like I was supposed to reach a point where everything would eventually feel “finished.” Like there would be a day when I would wake up and no longer feel the weight of loss.

But what I’ve learned over time is that grief doesn’t work on a finish line.

It changes.

It softens.

It shifts.

But it doesn’t disappear.

For me, the goal has never been to move on from Jon. The goal has been to move forward with my life while still carrying the reality of his absence.

There is a big difference between those two things.

What People Don't Understand About Widowhood (part 2)

Wed, 17 Jun 2026 11:23:00 CDT

Missing Someone Isn’t the Same as Being Stuck in Grief

Why love and loss can coexist long after life moves forward

One of the things people often misunderstand about widowhood is the idea that if you still miss someone, you must not be “moving forward.”

I’ve heard versions of this over the years, sometimes spoken gently and sometimes just implied. The assumption is that healing means the absence of grief. That if you are doing well, functioning, rebuilding life, or even finding joy again, then the missing should disappear too.

But that’s not how grief works.

And it’s not how love works either.

Missing Jon today does not mean I am stuck in the past. It simply means he mattered deeply in my life. There is a difference between being stuck in grief and still carrying love for someone who is no longer here.

For me, grief has changed shape over the years. It is no longer the constant, heavy weight it once was in the early days. I am not living in survival mode anymore. I am not waking up every day trying to figure out how to get through the next hour.

What People Don't Understand About Widowhood (part 1)

Wed, 17 Jun 2026 11:08:00 CDT

Do You Ever Stop Being a Widow?

Why widowhood remains part of my story nearly 17 years later

This post is the first in a series called What People Don't Understand About Widowhood, where I'll be sharing some of the realities of grief, healing, faith, and rebuilding life after loss that people often don't see.

One of the questions people don't ask out loud, but often seem to wonder, is this:

At some point, do you stop being a widow?

After all, it's been nearly 17 years since Jon passed away.

My children are grown.

One has graduated from college, and the other is entering his senior year.

I've rebuilt a life I never expected to have.

And I've been happily remarried to Heath for over eight years.

From the outside, it might seem like widowhood belongs in my past.

But the answer is no.

I am still a widow.

And I am also a wife.

Both things are true.

When Jon died, widowhood felt like the only thing I could see. Everything in my life was divided into "before" and "after."

Practical Ways to Help a Widow After Loss

Wed, 10 Jun 2026 13:33:14 CDT

Simple, practical ways to support someone who is grieving without adding to their burden.

One of the questions I get asked occasionally is, “What’s the best way to help someone after they lose a spouse?”

Most people genuinely want to help. They care deeply and want to ease the pain somehow. But grief can be uncomfortable, and sometimes our desire to help is really about making ourselves feel better.

If you're helping someone who has experienced loss, don't do it to check a box. Don't do it because you feel obligated.

Give because you care.

Give because you see a need.

Give because you miss the person who died and want to honor their family.

As a widow, I can tell you that practical help often means more than people realize.

When my husband died, it wasn’t just losing him. It was the loss of everything he did.

Suddenly there was no one helping with the house, the yard, the finances, the car repairs, the decision making, or the countless little things that happened behind the scenes every day.

The weight of that can feel overwhelming.