Hope as Strong as Your Story

Easter continues to be an interesting marker in my grief journey. There are moments when I feel the grief emotions less and other times, more. This year, it is tipping on the more side.

For the past several years, I have worked on a church staff which meant the week and day was quite busy. Busyness has a way of helping you deflect grief emotions (sometimes). This Easter, I am not working at a church but instead work at a local grief center, which means I am continually surrounded by new stories of people navigating heartache and loss. I talk about grief often with colleagues and new people I meet. If you have followed my journey you know I don’t shy away from the topic and have been open about my journey. I have had many conversations over the years but this new angle has put me in a more reflective mood for Easter 2025. 

My mind drifts back to a couple specific Easter scenes. One 6 years ago, Easter weekend - Josh and I spent Easter in the hospital in Arkansas after learning he had a brain tumor. Rewind 27 years, and in the afternoon of Easter, my family was saying an earthly goodbye to my mom on a hospital bed as she died of cancer. There’s a depth of sorrow for this holiday that spans many decades. 

As I sit in a cabin, on a rainy Easter morning in Oklahoma, before heading to a church service in a place I have never been, I sigh as I feel the weight of that sorrow deep in my heart. It lingers even as there are no good moments are in my current view. 

Turning the page to the topic of Easter and I find God bursting on the scene once again to declare death has no victory. There is so much hope in this declaration. Hope that the sorrow I feel for loss will be erased and hope that I just might see my loved ones again in some way.

On Good Friday I attended a church service and this line stood out to me. “Hope is as close as your story.” I wrote down the line as I thought this is so true. Hope is in fact the central theme of my story. As I journey through each season, through the hills and the valleys, through the joy and sorrow, the phrase hope keeps appearing as I turn the page. 

The hope of Easter, gives hope for another day. No matter what happens in life, the hope of Jesus remains. 

So whether you are still standing in a puddle of collected tears, if you are trying to shield away sorrow or are figuring out how to walk in the rain - in hopeful flower boots - I hope that as you encounter Easter this year, you get a glimpse of God’s great love for you. 💙💒

I hope that no matter what you are facing and feeling - whether it’s your first Easter without someone you love or the 50th etc.,  - that you will embrace the compassionate, gentle Savior who is with you along the way.