“God, I’m having a hard time.” The words slipped out in a quiet moment, raw and unfiltered. It wasn’t a polished prayer—just an honest admission of where I was. I’d just lost my best friend, and my heart was breaking.
Grief is a storm that reshaped the landscape of my heart. Losing Misty plunged me into a darkness filled with questions, unpredictable raw emotions, and profound loss. There were days I didn’t think I’d make it through the pain.
But as I looked to the Lord, a glimmer of light emerged. It wasn’t the light of immediate healing, answers, or an easy resolution to my pain. Instead, it was the slow and steady illumination of God’s peace and presence walking alongside me (Philippians 4:6–7). It was a newfound courage and resilience that embraced hardship and loss—not as something to escape, but as something to accept.
Grief often feels like an enemy to be defeated. We fight against it and avoid, outrun, or numb ourselves to its impact. But grief is not something to conquer. It is a teacher that, when we face it with courage and honesty, can lead us to new depths of intimacy with God, self, and others. Through grief, we can discover resilience and strength we didn’t know we had.
I am learning not to deny what is painful but to accept it as part of my story. A transformed life does not try to eliminate all the negative thoughts, feelings, and situations—that’s impossible. A transformed life understands that we change our response to those things. We think about them from God’s perspective, trusting His presence and planning in life’s challenges. As Isaiah 42:3 reminds us, “A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out” (NIV).
Victory in the darkness of grief doesn’t come from avoiding the pain; it comes from walking through it intentionally and with active faith. My old strategies for managing painful situations don’t serve me anymore. I used to isolate, stay in bed, wallow in pity, numb and escape from reality, or run away from anything challenging.
Victory in the shadow of grief doesn’t mean the grief is gone or that I will never feel sorrow again. Victory is a choice. It comes when I decide not to hide but to be vulnerable. It’s about being honest with myself and others about my thoughts and feelings. It’s choosing to lament and bring my pain to God rather than hoard or hide from it.
Victory also comes in taking care of myself. I’ve learned to support my body by eating right and exercising. I prioritize rest, and create space for recovery and healing. Leaning into my community for support and prayer has been vital too.
Victory is about participating in life, even when it feels broken. That means I can be vulnerable and honest with God and admit I’m having a hard time. I can reach out to Him even as I allow myself to feel every emotion—sadness, anger, confusion.
Life brings hardship and pain. A transformed life doesn’t deny this reality; it acknowledges and embraces it. It sees every trial as an opportunity for deeper intimacy with the Father (Psalm 34:18), every loss as a chance to receive His strength (1 Corinthians 10:13), and every sorrow as a place where His Spirit brings mature fruit (James 1:2–4).
God hasn’t left us without help and hope. Jesus promised in John 16:33 that we can have hope during trouble because He has overcome every hard thing we’ll go through.
As I navigate the waves of grief, I hold onto this hope: the darkness is not the end of the story. Christ has overcome the darkness. In Him, even the most profound sorrow can become a doorway to victory and a path to a fuller, more radiant life.
SHERIDAN CORREA is a trauma-informed biblical counselor who serves as the wellness program director for Victorious Living. A wife and mother of two teenage boys, Sheridan has been radically changed by Jesus.
