57 results for author: Constance Ray
A Weary World, A Weary Heart, and a Hope That Still Holds
I am so sorry for the rough road you may have walked to get to this day. Christmas Eve can make grief feel even thicker, especially if this month hasn’t looked the way you hoped it would. Maybe you didn’t end up doing every tradition you planned. Maybe the holidays felt heavier than you expected. Maybe joy has been hard to access this year. If that’s true for you, I want to gently remind you: it’s okay to be weary. It’s okay to not be okay, to not feel full of holiday cheer, and to not have had the capacity for everything you hoped to do. The hurts, heartaches, and exhaustion can feel especially intense tonight.
When you’re pregnant ...
When Hope Feels Fragile
There are seasons of grief when hope feels impossibly small. Not gone, but fragile. Like something you’re holding gently in the palm of your hand because you’re afraid if you grip it too tightly, it might crumble. The holiday season can make that feeling even more noticeable. Everywhere you look, people are talking about joy, peace, and light, and those words can feel so far from what’s happening inside your heart. You may find yourself thinking, “I want those things. I really do. But I’m not there yet.” And that’s okay.
After I lost my daughter, I remember trying to step back into the rhythm of life and faith. I wanted to feel ...
When God Feels Far Away
There are days in grief when God feels painfully distant. You know the verses, you’ve heard the promises, and you’ve prayed the prayers, but there is still this quiet ache inside you asking, “God, where are You?” I remember reading Scripture in those early weeks after losing my daughter and feeling like the words were flat, like they weren’t sinking into me at all. I would try to pray, and all I could manage were small fragments of sentences. And sometimes not even that. Sometimes it was only tears and thoughts I couldn’t speak.
It can be so hard to admit when God feels far away. I think there’s a subtle shame attached to it, as if ...
When the Waiting Feels Endless
There is a particular kind of exhaustion that comes with waiting through grief. Waiting for your heart to let up. Waiting for the heaviness in your chest to lift, even a little. Waiting for some piece of life to feel normal again. During December, when the world feels like it’s rushing ahead with busy schedules and twinkling lights, waiting can feel even more painful. Everyone else seems to be anticipating and experiencing something good, while you’re still waiting for the ache to ease and wondering when it might ever feel different.
I remember those early months after losing my daughter, when the days felt incredibly long. The waiting was not ...
When Grief Makes You Go Quiet
December has a way of making grief louder. Or maybe it just makes everything else louder, and your grief feels even more out of place than usual. Everyone seems to be moving on with their lives. They’re hanging stockings, making plans, and doing their best to live something that looks “merry,” while you’re still sitting in the same ache.
I remember the silence that lived inside me after losing my daughter. I didn’t know how to answer simple questions anymore. Someone would text, “How are you today?” and I’d stare at the words because I didn’t know where to begin. Nothing had changed. My baby was still gone. My heart still ...
To The One Whose Heart Is Heavy This Thanksgiving
I don’t know what your Thanksgiving table looks like this year. Maybe it’s surrounded by people who love you, but there’s still a gaping hole where your baby should be. Maybe you’re smiling for pictures while your heart is breaking. Maybe you’ve opted out of gathering altogether because it just feels like too much. If your heart feels heavy today, I want you to know this: you’re not alone.
There is no guilt in weeping. Even Jesus wept. The One who knew the end of the story. The One who knew the resurrection, the restoration, and the joy set before Him still let tears fall when death touched the ones He loved. Your tears don’t mean ...
A Song for my Soul: Highlands (Song of Ascent)
Music has the ability to speak into the deepest recesses of our hearts. God often uses songs to speak hope and encouragement to our souls. In this series, Hope Moms share songs that have pointed them to the hope of Christ in the midst of their grief.
When I first listened to Highlands (Song of Ascent), I wasn’t in the throes of fresh grief, but the tears came quickly. Its melody stirred something sacred in me. It felt like an invitation to remember the valley I once walked through and the God who bent low to meet me there. The song reminded me that whether we are standing on a mountaintop or stumbling through the valley, His love never ...
Remember That A Better Feast Is Coming
Despite differences in background or tradition, Thanksgiving is generally recognized as a time to celebrate abundance. It’s a time when friends and family gather to give thanks for the harvest, for “plenty,” for the goodness of God seen in what He has provided. But for the grieving mother, the cultural chorus of “Give thanks!” can sting like salt in a wound. Those words echo from store displays and social media captions, throw pillows and kindergarten artwork, but instead of prompting joy, they may only amplify the emptiness.
Empty wombs that once held life. Empty arms that ache to hold a child who is no longer here. Empty chairs around ...
When Gratitude Feels Impossible
For many, Thanksgiving is a season of abundance, celebration, and gratitude. But for the grieving mom, gratitude can feel not just hard, but impossible. Her precious baby is missing from pumpkin patch photos and the family table. She’s not buying the “Mama’s Little Turkey” bib or a “Baby’s First Thanksgiving” outfit. She’s carrying a silent sorrow, and her heart feels out of sync with the season.
When your arms ache for a child you can’t hold, how do you give thanks?
When your heart is shattered and your prayers seem unanswered, how do you rejoice?
When everyone else is counting blessings and you’re counting losses, ...
When Motherhood Doesn’t Feel Like It Should
Motherhood was always meant to be the most natural thing in the world. From the very beginning, it was part of God’s good design. The first recorded words God spoke to humanity were, “Be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:28). Before sin entered the world, before brokenness took root, motherhood was a part of Eden. It was meant to be life-giving, joyful, and full of purpose. And the first words spoken directly to Eve were wrapped in this calling to be a mother.
But for many of us, motherhood hasn’t looked or felt the way it was originally intended to be. When you lose a baby, something that once felt so natural suddenly feels confusing, ...
