One of the hardest things about losing a child is that life keeps moving forward, even when you wish it would stop. The sun comes up the next morning. People go back to work. Families continue making plans. The world keeps spinning as though nothing has changed, while for us, everything has changed.

At some point, though, we begin asking a question we never wanted to face. How do I even begin? Not because we want to move on from our child, which we never will, but because we are still here. We still have responsibilities waiting for us each morning. We still have people who need us. And somewhere deep inside, even if it is only the faintest flicker, we begin to wonder if there is a way to keep living without leaving our child behind.

If you have been wondering how to begin rebuilding your life after child loss, I want you to know that I once asked that very same question. This year marks ten years since my book When Tragedy Strikes: Rebuilding Your Life with Hope and Healing After the Death of Your Child was first published. As I have reflected on that anniversary, I realized that the message behind this book is just as important today as it was when God first placed it on my heart.

Looking for Hope

After my daughter, Becca, died, I searched everywhere for someone who could tell me it would not always hurt this much. I was not looking for someone to tell me to “move on,” because I knew that was impossible. I was looking for someone who had walked this road ahead of me and could honestly say, “I know where you are. I’ve been there. While the pain never completely goes away, it will not always feel this overwhelming.”

I wanted to know that it was possible to live a meaningful life again. Not because I wanted a different life without Becca, but because this was now the life in front of me, and I honestly did not know how to live it. I also wanted someone who understood not only the devastating pain of child loss, but the struggle of trying to reconcile that pain with my faith in God.

Back then, there were very few Christian resources written by someone who had walked several years beyond the death of a child. Even many of the online groups I found seemed consumed with hopelessness. As a fellow pareavor, I understood the darkness all too well, but I also knew I could not spend the rest of my life simply existing until it was my turn to die. Surely God had something more for those of us who were willing to keep walking with Him.

God Was Writing a Bigger Story

Looking back now, I can see that while I thought I was searching for hope, God was quietly preparing me to share that hope with others.

One night, a couple of years after Becca’s death, I woke up with three words echoing so strongly in my mind that I could not ignore them: When Tragedy Strikes. Along with those words came what felt like chapter ideas for a book. I climbed out of bed in the middle of the night, grabbed some paper, and started writing, so I would not forget what was coming to me.

At the time, I had no idea where those notes would lead. I simply remember climbing back into bed thinking, “Well, I guess I’m supposed to write a book.”

Writing the manuscript was emotionally exhausting. Some days I wrote through tears. Other days I had to stop because my heart simply could not take any more. But as the chapters slowly came together, I noticed something I had completely missed that first night.

The House God Showed Me

Many of the chapters fit together like different rooms in a house. There was a foundation, a bedroom, a kitchen, a porch, a roof and even a driveway. At first, I thought it was simply an interesting way to organize the book. Over time, though, I realized that God was giving me much more than an outline. He was giving me a picture of what grief does to us.

The death of our child affects every area of our lives. It shakes our faith. It changes our relationships. It impacts our thoughts, our emotions, our identity, and the future we thought we would have. It is almost as though every room in the house has been touched by grief.

That is when I began to understand what rebuilding really means.

Rebuilding Does Not Mean Leaving Our Child Behind

Sometimes grieving parents hear the phrase “rebuilding your life” and assume it means forgetting their child or somehow moving on. That has never been what I mean.

To me, rebuilding means allowing God to teach us how to live again while carrying our son or daughter with us in our hearts. Healing does not mean we stop missing them. It does not mean life goes back to the way it was before. There is no going back.

Instead, it means learning to function again. It means discovering that joy and sorrow can exist side by side. It means finding purpose in a life that has been forever changed by the child we continue to love.

When people ask me how to begin rebuilding your life after child loss, this is always where I begin. Rebuilding is not replacing your child. It is allowing God to lovingly rebuild the life you are still here to live, because your child mattered so deeply.

One Brick at a Time

One of the greatest lessons God has taught me is that no one rebuilds an entire house all at once. If you drove past a construction site every day, you probably would not notice much change. But if you came back several weeks later, you would be amazed by the progress.

Grief often works the same way. We become discouraged because we still cry. We still struggle. We still have grief waves that seem to knock us off our feet. Yet God is often doing His deepest work quietly, in ways we cannot recognize until we stop and look back.

That is one of the reasons I continue sharing how to begin rebuilding your life after child loss. I have lived it myself. I still miss Becca deeply. There are still moments when my heart aches because I wish she were here to experience life with us. That part has never changed. What has changed is the hopelessness. God has faithfully replaced despair with purpose, not by taking away my grief, but by walking with me through it.

Trust the Master Builder

Perhaps the greatest lesson I have learned over these past ten years is that God rarely shows us the finished picture. He simply asks us to take the next step.

If someone handed you the plans for an entire house and told you to build it today, you would probably feel overwhelmed and know that it would be impossible. But if they handed you one brick and asked you to place it where it belonged, you could do that.

That is often how God works in our grief. He is not asking you to figure out the next thirty years without your child. He is simply asking you to trust Him with today. Maybe today’s brick is getting out of bed. Maybe it is opening your Bible again. Maybe it is reaching out to another pareavor. Or maybe it is simply whispering, “Jesus, help me.”

If you are wondering how to begin rebuilding your life after child loss, do not focus on the entire house. Trust the Master Builder with today’s brick. One day, you will look back and realize that while you thought you were simply surviving, God was quietly and faithfully rebuilding your life all along.

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NOTE: This was partially taken from the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast episode 357. Click here to listen to the full discussion, or look for the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast on your favorite listening app.

GPS Hope & Healing retreat, October 16-18, in Sarasota, FL

Check out all the GPS Hope resources here.

To support this podcast and, keep it ad-free, and get exclusive content, visit us on Patreon

Download our FREE GUIDE. Rebuilding Your Life: A Gentle Guide Toward Hope and Healing After Child Loss. Discover gentle encouragement for your broken heart, practical support for the days ahead, and hope that meets you right where you are.

 

AWARD WINNING AUTHOR, LAURA DIEHL, has written several impactful books that provide comfort and guidance to those navigating the painful journey of child loss, after the death of her own daughter in 2011. Her most acclaimed work, When Tragedy Strikes: Rebuilding Your Life with Hope and Healing After the Death of Your Child, has received multiple accolades, including the 2017 Gold Medal Centauri Christian Book Award for Non-Fiction and a Silver Medal in the 2018 Illumination Awards. Several of her other books have won awards as well.

In addition to her writing, Laura is an ordained minister and has an extensive background in international children’s ministry. She is a sought-after speaker and singer at grief conferences and churches, known for her compassionate approach and deep understanding of the grieving process, especially the unique loss of a child. Through her weekly award-winning podcast, her writings, and other resources provided by GPS Hope, Laura and her husband, Dave, continue to provide hope and healing to thousands of parents worldwide, helping them find light in the midst of profound loss and darkness.

For more information about Laura’s award-winning books go to gpshope.org/books.
To find out more about Laura Diehl and the ministry of Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope) visit gpshope.org.

The link to Hope for the Future is an affiliate link, allowing part of the purchase price to go to GPS Hope. 

When we hear the word freedom, most of us think about being released from something that has been holding us back. Here in the United States, that word is especially meaningful around Independence Day, when we celebrate the freedoms that we enjoy as a nation. But no matter where you live in the world, freedom is something we all long for. And if you are a grieving parent, finding freedom after child loss may feel impossible.

This year, our nation’s Fourth of July celebration was especially significant because America marked its 250th anniversary. As I watched the fireworks, saw the flags waving, and reflected on all that has happened over those two and a half centuries, I found myself thinking about freedom in a very different way.

Because if you’re a pareavor, there’s a good chance the holiday didn’t feel much like a celebration.

Maybe you watched fireworks with tears in your eyes because someone was missing. Maybe you stayed home because it simply hurt too much to be surrounded by happy families. Or perhaps you smiled on the outside while your heart quietly ached on the inside.

Holidays have a way of doing that, don’t they? They remind us not only of what we have, but also of who we’ve lost. What are meant to be joyful celebrations can become painful reminders of the empty place where our child should be.

As bereaved parents, we don’t experience holidays the same way we once did. Every birthday, every Christmas, every Mother’s Day or Father’s Day, every graduation season, and yes, even the Fourth of July, carries with it the awareness that someone we love should still be here sharing those moments with us.

That realization never completely goes away.

When Freedom Feels Out of Reach

Freedom is a word we hear over and over during celebrations like Independence Day. We remember those who sacrificed so that others could live in freedom, and we recognize that freedom has never come without a cost.

But as pareavors, especially during those first several years after our child’s death, freedom is probably one of the last words we would use to describe our lives.

Instead, grief has a way of making us feel trapped.

We’re trapped by memories that appear without warning. We’re trapped by unanswered questions and by guilt over things we wish we had done differently, or words we wish we had spoken. We’re trapped by fear that something terrible could happen to someone else we love.

Sometimes we’re even trapped by the expectations of other people who feel like we should be “doing better” by now, even though we know grief doesn’t follow a timetable.

And sometimes, if we’re really honest, we begin feeling trapped by grief itself. Not because we want to stay there, but because grief becomes so much a part of who we are that we can’t imagine what life looks like without it.

If I start laughing again, am I leaving my child behind?

If I begin enjoying life again, does that somehow mean I love them less?

If I move forward, will people think I’ve forgotten?

Those are questions most pareavors quietly wrestle with.

The truth is, child loss changes us forever. There is no going back to the person we were before our son or daughter died. While we may eventually find a new way to live, there are days when it feels like we’re carrying invisible chains that no one else can see.

If that’s where you find yourself today, I want you to know something.

Jesus never expected you to pretend those chains aren’t there. He isn’t asking you to ignore your grief or somehow force yourself to feel happy because you’re a Christian. He understands sorrow. He understands loss. And He understands what it feels like to carry unbearable pain.

But He also speaks about a kind of freedom that grief cannot take away.

What Kind of Freedom Is Jesus Talking About?

Jesus said, “So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36).

Then we’re reminded in 2 Corinthians 3:17, “Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”

I’ll be honest. After Becca died, those verses were difficult for me to understand because I certainly didn’t feel free.

I remember feeling like I was held captive by pain that seemed like it would never end. I was weighed down by questions that had no answers. My whole world suddenly felt smaller than it had ever been before. It was as though grief had built walls around my heart, and I couldn’t imagine ever finding my way beyond them.

So, what kind of freedom was Jesus talking about?

It certainly wasn’t freedom from grief.

If you’ve been part of the GPS Hope community for very long, you know I would never tell you that following Jesus means your pain magically disappears. We know better than that. Jesus Himself wept. He understands sorrow, and He understands what it means to lose someone you love.

Those verses must mean something deeper.

I believe the freedom Jesus offers is not freedom from grief, but freedom from allowing grief to become the walls that define our lives.

Child loss changes us forever. It leaves scars that will remain until we see our children again. We will always love and miss them. But while grief becomes part of our story, it doesn’t have to become the story. It doesn’t have to determine who we are or where our lives end.

Think about some of the ways grief tries to hold us captive.

It whispers that we’ll never smile again. Jesus gently reminds us there is still joy to be found, even if it looks very different than it once did.

Grief tells us our future has been destroyed because our child is no longer here. Jesus reminds us that He is already waiting for us in every tomorrow we have yet to face. Our time with our children is not over. It has simply been put on pause until the day we join them.

Grief tells us we’re completely alone because no one really understands. Jesus says, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

Grief tells us our life no longer has purpose. Yet Jesus continues inviting us to walk with Him, even though the path looks nothing like we ever imagined it would.

Then there’s another wall that I think many pareavors quietly live behind, and that’s guilt.

Those thoughts of, “If only I had…” “If I would have…” and “Why didn’t I…” can replay in our minds for years. Sometimes they’re based on real regrets. Many times, they are based on things we never could have known or controlled. Either way, guilt is a cruel companion. It keeps our eyes fixed on yesterday instead of allowing us to see how God wants to meet us today.

Fear can become another wall as well. After you’ve experienced the unimaginable, it’s understandable to wonder if something terrible could happen again. You may find yourself holding your breath every time someone you love is running late. A phone call in the middle of the night can make your heart race. You may even wonder if you’ll survive another loss.

Those fears are real, and Jesus doesn’t condemn us for having them. Instead, He gently invites us to bring them to Him. He asks us to trust Him with the things we cannot control and to rest in His presence, even when our circumstances haven’t changed.

I believe that’s the freedom Jesus is talking about.

Not freedom from loving our child.

Not freedom from missing them.

Not freedom from tears.

It’s the freedom of knowing that grief doesn’t have the final word.

When Grief Is No Longer Your Identity

Our child’s death changed us, but it should not define our identity, even though it often does at the beginning. I remember feeling like whenever I met someone new, I wanted to introduce myself by saying, “Hi, I’m Laura, and my daughter died.” My loss had become the first thing I thought about because it affected every part of my life.

Our grief will walk beside us for the rest of our lives, but it doesn’t have to sit on the throne of our hearts. That place belongs to Jesus alone. And when we continue giving Him that place, something beautiful begins to happen.

The chains don’t necessarily fall off overnight, and the walls don’t suddenly disappear. But little by little, Jesus begins opening windows of hope. Then, in His perfect timing, He opens doors we never imagined we’d be able to walk through again. If you don’t believe that’s possible, I encourage you to listen to last week’s podcast episode, (www.gpshope.org/podcast/355) where I shared more about that journey.

We discover that we really can breathe again. We can laugh again without betraying our child. We can love others deeply without loving our child any less. We can look toward tomorrow without feeling like we’re leaving yesterday behind. That, I believe, is the kind of freedom Christ offers every grieving parent.

What Finding Freedom After Child Loss Looks Like

So what does this kind of freedom actually look like in everyday life?

I don’t think it’s something dramatic that happens all at once. For most of us, it’s something God gently grows in us over time. One of the first ways we begin finding freedom after child loss is by giving ourselves permission to stop pretending.

So many bereaved parents feel pressure to put on a smile because they don’t want to make others uncomfortable. We tell people we’re fine when we’re really struggling. We convince ourselves we should be farther along in our grief than we are. But God isn’t asking us to pretend.

Throughout Scripture, we see people bringing Him their honest emotions. David poured out his heart in the Psalms. Job questioned. Jeremiah lamented. Even Jesus cried out in deep anguish. God is not intimidated by our tears, our questions, or our sorrow. He invites us to bring all of it to Him.

Finding freedom after child loss also means giving ourselves permission to grieve differently than someone else. Every pareavor’s journey is unique. Some parents find comfort being around people, while others need quiet. Some want to talk about their child every chance they get, while others hold those memories close and share them only with a few trusted people. Some can attend family celebrations, while others need to stay home for a season.

None of those responses automatically make someone stronger or weaker in their grief. We don’t have to measure our journey against anyone else’s. Instead, we can allow God to lead us one step at a time, instead of trying to live by someone else’s expectations.

Another part of finding freedom after child loss is giving ourselves permission to experience joy again.

I know that can be one of the hardest things for a grieving parent. Sometimes we feel guilty for laughing. We wonder if enjoying a vacation, celebrating another child’s accomplishment, or simply having a good day, somehow means we’re leaving our child behind.

But joy and grief are not enemies. They can live together in the same heart. One doesn’t erase the other.

The joy we experience today doesn’t diminish the love we have for our child. It doesn’t lessen how deeply we miss them. In fact, I believe the ability to laugh again is one of God’s gentle gifts to us and something we need that brings a measure of healing to our shattered hearts. Not because we’ve stopped grieving, but because He’s reminding us that grief isn’t the only thing He has for us.

Perhaps one of the greatest freedoms of all is the freedom to keep loving our child without believing we have to stop living ourselves.

For a long time, many of us feel like those two things can’t exist together. We wonder, If I keep living, am I somehow leaving my child behind?

But what if living well is actually one of the ways we continue honoring them? Not because we have to. Not because we’re trying to prove anything. But because the love they planted in us is still growing.

The kindness they inspired. The compassion they’ve awakened. The strength we’ve discovered. The faith God has been building in us. Those are all part of our son or daughter’s legacy.

Their earthly life ended far too soon, but the impact of their life continues. Every time we choose compassion because we understand suffering, every time we encourage another grieving parent, and every time we share hope when it would have been easier to stay silent, our child’s life continues touching this world.

I’ve often said that our children leave gifts behind. In fact, I even teach a workshop on this very topic. Some of those gifts take years to recognize because they’re wrapped in so much pain. But as God continues healing our hearts, He slowly helps us see the ways our children have shaped us into people who love more deeply, notice those who are hurting, and understand the value of every single day.

That’s not replacing our child.

That is refusing to honor our child’s death more than honoring their life.

That’s carrying forward the love they left in us.

As our nation recently celebrated 250 years of history, people reflected on the sacrifices that helped shape the country we know today. History matters because it continues to influence the present.

The same is true for our children.

Their story didn’t end the day they left this earth. Their love still matters. Their influence still matters. The ways they changed us still matter. And because of that, their legacy continues.

Maybe that’s one more picture of finding freedom after child loss. It’s the freedom to carry our child with us instead of feeling like we have to choose between remembering them and living the life God still has for us.

We don’t have to make that choice.

By God’s grace, we really can do both.

Freedom Is Found in the Presence of Christ

Next to Christmas, the Fourth of July was Becca’s favorite holiday. She loved everything about it. Not only did she enjoy the huge fireworks displays put on by the cities, but she and her husband would spend a chunk of money buying fireworks to shoot off at home with family and friends.

The Fourth of July has never been the same since she left. There are still moments when I think, Becca should be here. She would have been so excited about all the extra fireworks for our nation’s 250th anniversary, and she would have absolutely loved the drone shows that have become so popular.

I don’t think missing her deeply this time every year will ever completely go away. As a matter of fact, I found myself wiping away tears while preparing this message (and I fought tears while recording this podcast episode). But I’ve also discovered that I can enjoy watching my other adult children celebrate the holiday, and I especially treasure the times I get to be with our grandchildren, enjoying a family cookout, watching them play, hearing them laugh, and seeing the wonder on their faces as the fireworks light up the sky, all without feeling like I’m leaving Becca behind.

That’s because I’ve learned something that has become deeply precious to me.

Freedom isn’t found in the absence of grief.

Freedom is found in the presence of Christ while we grieve.

Child loss may change every part of your life, but it cannot imprison a heart that continues turning toward Jesus.

As I watched the flags flying this year, I was reminded once again that every freedom comes at a cost. As pareavors, we understand something about costly love. We continue loving a child we cannot see. We continue carrying memories that no one can ever take away.

And because of Jesus, we can also carry hope.

Not because life turned out the way we wanted. But because the One who walks beside us has promised He will never leave us. We may never feel free from grief, but we can discover what it means to live freely within it.

Our nation has spent 250 years building a history. As grieving parents, we sometimes think our child’s history ended the day they died.

But it didn’t.

They left a legacy that continues to shape who we are. Their influence, their love, the ways they changed us, and even the ways God continues working because of their life are still part of their story.

Just as a nation’s history continues influencing its future, our children’s lives continue to matter. Their story didn’t end when their earthly life ended.

And because of Christ, neither did ours.

There is still freedom in Him. Freedom to learn how to live a life of meaning and purpose again—not in spite of your child’s death, but because of his or her life. As you continue finding freedom after child loss, may you discover more and more that Jesus walks every step of this journey with you, gently leading you into a future where your child’s love continues to be carried, your heart continues to heal, and His faithful presence remains your constant source of hope.

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NOTE: This was partially taken from the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast episode 356. Click here to listen to the full discussion, or look for the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast on your favorite listening app.

Take a look at the Pareavor with Hope shirts and ball caps here. 

GPS Hope & Healing retreat, October 16-18, in Sarasota, FL

Check out all the GPS Hope resources here.

To support this podcast and, keep it ad-free, and get exclusive content, visit us on Patreon

Download our FREE GUIDE (no email required). Rebuilding Your Life: A Gentle Guide Toward Hope and Healing After Child Loss. Discover gentle encouragement for your broken heart, practical support for the days ahead, and hope that meets you right where you are.

 

AWARD WINNING AUTHOR, LAURA DIEHL, has written several impactful books that provide comfort and guidance to those navigating the painful journey of child loss, after the death of her own daughter in 2011. Her most acclaimed work, When Tragedy Strikes: Rebuilding Your Life with Hope and Healing After the Death of Your Child, has received multiple accolades, including the 2017 Gold Medal Centauri Christian Book Award for Non-Fiction and a Silver Medal in the 2018 Illumination Awards. Several of her other books have won awards as well.

In addition to her writing, Laura is an ordained minister and has an extensive background in international children’s ministry. She is a sought-after speaker and singer at grief conferences and churches, known for her compassionate approach and deep understanding of the grieving process, especially the unique loss of a child. Through her weekly award-winning podcast, her writings, and other resources provided by GPS Hope, Laura and her husband, Dave, continue to provide hope and healing to thousands of parents worldwide, helping them find light in the midst of profound loss and darkness.

For more information about Laura’s award-winning books go to gpshope.org/books.
To find out more about Laura Diehl and the ministry of Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope) visit gpshope.org.

The link to Hope for the Future is an affiliate link, allowing part of the purchase price to go to GPS Hope.