In January 2023, I lost my son to a drug overdose. The pain of that day and the days and months that followed is hard to convey in words. But in these devotions, I hope to share with you what has helped in my grief journey because I know that one testimony of how I’m making it after such a hard loss will likely help someone else who reads these words to keep going.
HarperCollins/Zondervan/Thomas Nelson
Day 1
Scriptures: Psalms 34:18, Isaiah 41:10, Lamentations 3:32
The Loss of a Loved One
The death of my son marks the point when everything changed. When you lose a child, you are inducted into a special club that no one wants to be in. But the loss of my son has not stopped me from knowing and trusting God, though there are days when it seems like it might. Have you experienced those times too? Where family, friends, perhaps even God, seem far from you, from your grief? If loneliness has settled in and grief won’t let you go and there’s no one reaching out and no one for you to call, open your mouth and cry out to God. I promise you, He hears you. I promise you, He’s not sitting high and judging your pain. I promise you, He’s not expecting you to know what to do and how to do it. Psalm 34:18 tells us the Lord is close to the brokenhearted. The living God will sit with you even when no one else will if you let Him.
In these days, weeks, and months following your loss, try to create space for your grief. This is not a sign of weakness but rather an act of courage. It requires you to confront the pain that lies within you, to sit with it, to hold it close, even as it threatens to overwhelm you.
Also, don’t be afraid to show your vulnerability to others. There’s nothing weak about sharing your heart and letting people know where you are in any given moment. We still have this stigma, especially in certain communities, where we’re taught that we only get to be strong. In the Black community, strength is everything. But I think the people who are the strongest are those who are most vulnerable. The people who know how to release, who know how to put their grief in its proper place, are the ones who are actually the strongest. And those who are pretending not to have any emotions at all, who pretend that grief happens in this finite period of time, are the ones who need the most healing.
Reflect: Do you trust God to be close to you in your pain? Are you creating space for your grief and allowing yourself to be vulnerable with trusted people in your life?
Day 2
Scriptures: Ecclesiastes 3:1-4, Job 8:21, Luke 6:21
Where Is God in My Grief? He’s Helping You Hold Both Joy and Grief.
I’ve witnessed the healing effect laughter can have on the human spirit, and I believe God created us to be able to hold both grief and joy at the same time. What many people forget, especially Black folks, is that as a collective, we’ve held both pain and laughter for generations, so we certainly have the capacity to do it for ourselves individually. But some of us have forgotten that, I think. Some of us believe that if we are grieving, we should not experience joy. Ecclesiastes 3:4 teaches that there is a time to laugh and a time to cry. But that does not mean that to honor our lost loved ones, we cannot allow ourselves to be happy at all. In fact, it’s in the moments of laughter and joy that we find solace and healing.
As a matter of fact, if we’re truly trying to heal from the pain of our grief, we are going to have to open ourselves up to joy. We’re going to have to find time to feel the full gamut of emotions, not just sorrow or rage. I’ve watched people throughout my life do exactly that. I mean, think about it: When you go to a homegoing service, there is plenty of sorrow to go around. But there’s also laughter. There are people sharing stories of the good times when the deceased made them laugh or was happy. There is lots of love permeating the space even when great grief is present.
So when we try to formalize our grief and make it so that we can’t feel anything else, it’s not honoring. In fact, by clinging to the notion that to laugh in the face of death is somehow disrespectful or dishonorable, we might be narrowing our loved one’s legacy, their memory, because we are focusing only on the fact that they died and not on the fact that they lived. We are disregarding what their life brought to their community and maybe even the world. In the midst of the darkness of grief, there can be glimmers of light—a light born from the memories of joy and laughter shared with those we’ve lost.
Reflect: Are you allowing yourself to hold both grief and laughter, joy and sadness? If not, how can you work toward giving yourself the grace to do so in the future?
Day 3
Scriptures: Proverbs 27:17, Matthew 5:4, Psalms 147:3
Where Is God in My Grief? He’s in the Therapist’s Office.
God created therapists just the same as He created doctors. If your ankle was broken, you’d go to the doctor, so why wouldn’t you go when your mind is hurting? Seeking therapy isn’t about being weak. Not at all. For anyone struggling to heal from trauma or loss, who might be feeling like they are drowning, therapy is a lifeline. It’s an avenue I believe God uses to, as the Bible says, heal the brokenhearted (Psalm 147:3).
Now, I’ll be the first to admit that therapy wasn’t something I ever wanted to do. I’ve always been the kind of guy who preferred to handle things on his own. But losing a child changes you in ways you never could have imagined. It shakes you to your core, leaving behind a void that feels impossible to fill. That’s where therapy comes in. It’s like a life preserver. When I talk to my therapist, I know I am in a safe space to explore whatever complicated emotions might have shown up for me that week. I can unpack the grief and anger and regret that comes with my loss.
In the Black church, therapy carries somewhat of a stigma. We are taught to just pray about our pain and trauma. We are supposed to just leave it in God’s hands. We are indirectly told that if we are still feeling the pain of grief, then somehow, we don’t have enough faith. But I know from my experience that this is categorically untrue. My faith is what drives me to my therapist’s office. I don’t ever have to divorce my trust in God from my need to receive help from someone who actually knows how the brain works, who knows how the body responds to emotional pain.
I can love God and pray for my healing. I can also go to a professional who God uses to help me along the way. So I encourage you not to be afraid to talk to someone. Jesus is the ultimate therapist, but He has also given us people to talk to about our grief and burdens on this side of glory.
Reflect: Are you seeing a Christian counselor or therapist to help with your grief? If not, what is preventing you from making use of this resource?
Day 4
Scriptures: 1 Thessalonians 5:18, Colossians 3:15, Psalms 118:29
Where Is God in My Grief? He’s in Your Expressions of Gratitude.
Gratitude isn’t going to just land on you. Your pain is too deep. There will absolutely be moments when you don’t want to be grateful. When you’ll want to scream to anyone who’ll listen that you’ll never accept this loss. But whether you accept it or not, what is…is. You have to step outside yourself and find gratitude. And then when you get it, you hold on to it for dear life. It takes courage to have gratitude when you’ve lost someone you love. It takes courage to be thankful in every circumstance (1 Thessalonians 5:18). Gratitude isn’t just a coping mechanism. It’s a lifeline. It can anchor you when the waves of grief inevitably hit.
There are certainly big, grand reasons to be grateful. I’m thankful to have three other beautiful children who are still pressing on and still here with me. But there’s also the little things—the small moments of gratitude. Sometimes when grief has taken over to the extent that anxiety and depression have settled into your body, the only gratitude you might be able to muster is, “Thank You, God, for allowing me to get out of bed today.” Or “Thank You, God, for the ability to stay in bed today.” Or “Thank You, God, for being able to take a shower or eat a bowl of Froot Loops or take a walk or for the phone call from my aunt.” These simple, small moments of gratitude add up. They shift your lens. They make you think about what you have as opposed to what you don’t have, what’s here and present as opposed to what’s not here and gone. And that’s such a big deal on your healing journey.
Reflect: How can you move your heart toward a posture of gratitude?
Day 5
Scriptures: Revelation 21:4, Romans 14:8, Romans 8:28
Grief Has a Purpose
I think part of the healing process when we are holding so much grief is remembering that even in the darkness of despair, there is a purpose. It’s hard to hear that our grief has a purpose. We push back against the idea that God might use our pain for good because that feels wrong. And I get it. But if we believe that God is with us through the ups and downs of life, and we also believe that God is good, then why wouldn’t we believe that God, in His awareness of all the things that we go through, will somehow, as the ultimate Creator, transform our pain into something useful for us?
Nevertheless, this reassurance does little to ease the rawness of our grief. It doesn’t make it feel good, which is why some people might even resist the good that’s born from the pain—because they don’t feel worthy of it. They don’t feel like they should embrace anything good because of the loss they experienced. But I choose to believe that any positive outcome since the loss of my son is a reflection of my son’s desires for me. I believe he is now part of that great cloud of witnesses who are rooting me on as I grow from this experience. He’s wanting joy and love and peace for me. I choose to believe this because to entertain any other narrative would be to invite devastation of unimaginable proportions. And at the end of the day, all we have is our faith. All we have is what we believe. For me, faith is my anchor when nothing else makes sense.
Romans 8:28 says, “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (niv). This verse reminds me that my son’s passing, as devastating as it is, was not in vain. Through faith and perseverance and support, we can find meaning and purpose even when we’re in the most pain.
Reflect: Do you believe that there is a purpose to your pain? Are you able to be open to the idea that God could have a purpose for your pain?