When our child leaves this earth before we do, it can feel like everything inside of us has died too. The darkness can be so intense that even breathing feels like work. But over time, God gently begins to plant a seed of hope deep in our hearts. It’s fragile at first, easily drowned by tears or choked by pain. But as we stay connected with Him and with those who understand, that little seed begins to grow.
When Becca first died, I tried to find a group to connect with. At that time, so many places I found, especially in books and online, seemed to reinforce the belief that life will always be dark and never worth living again without our child.
I personally refused to believe that.
I knew my life would never be the same, but I couldn’t come into agreement that there was no longer purpose or that God somehow reached His limit when Becca died. I had four other children and grandchildren to still live for, as well as a loving husband and an international children’s ministry. I also knew that I had the Seed of Hope and Life living inside of me.
The Importance of Connection
For a while, it was just me and God, and honestly, that was a good thing for me personally in that beginning season. But eventually, I knew that I needed to be around others who had experienced child loss.
I kept putting it off. I didn’t want to leave a gathering feeling worse than when I went, being surrounded by people who were as much of a mess as I was. But God knew I needed connection, and somehow, I found out about a Christian organization for grieving moms that was hosting a retreat four hours away and I nervously registered and booked a hotel room.
Arriving early in the evening, the day before it started, I was surprised to have my hotel phone ring. It was the host, inviting me to join her and the group who were putting the retreat together, for dinner. I was welcomed so warmly, and over the weekend, I discovered that it was wonderful to find myself surrounded by a group of women who were a mess just like me. I wasn’t alone. Being with them watered my own little seed of hope in ways I didn’t even realize that I needed.
Hope: The Bridge from Pain to Purpose
There are so many emotions in grief: numbness, regret, anger, fear, confusion… all valid. But if you notice, these are all negative. So how do we move the needle toward the other direction, especially when we don’t know if we even want to?
I believe the bridge is HOPE.
When we have no hope, we have no desire to live. And the enemy knows that. If he can’t take us physically, he will try to destroy us emotionally, especially after child loss. We carry a big red target on us for him to steal our hope, making us want to die just to be with our child again.
But the death of our child did not blindside God like it may have done to us. That means we do not have to remain chained in darkness with no hope. Jesus came to break every chain that tries to keep us bound.
Seeds Take Time — But They Do Grow
There is a seed of hope already inside you. It may feel dormant, but it’s there. It just needs time (with lots of nourishing) to break through the hard ground of grief.
Seeds don’t sprout overnight. And having fruit takes even longer. Healing works the same way.
I’ve been through the trauma, the grief, and the darkness of losing my child. I’m still on this journey. But that seed of hope God planted in me is now growing into a tree of life. It’s a different tree than before Becca died, but it is alive. And it is bearing fruit.
The Enemy’s Lies vs. God’s Truth
Satan wants you to think that you don’t need God. “If God really is who He says He is, why didn’t He stop my child from dying?” “If God is good, why did He let this happen?” The enemy will try to convince you that you will do better staying mad at God or pushing Him out of your life.
He tempted Jesus in a similar way in the wilderness. “Do it my way and I will give you what you want.”
The Biblical meaning of temptation is a trial in which we have a free choice of being faithful, or unfaithful, to God. I know we feel like God was unfaithful to us, but that is not true. That is the lie that Satan wants us to believe. He is called the enemy for a reason, because he comes to steal, kill and destroy whatever he can, to make us start to doubt, and believe lies about God.
Those doubts will make it hard to seek hope, which is exactly what the enemy wants.
Living From Our Spirit, Not Just Our Pain
Are you living from your soul or from your spirit? Living from our soul means we are living based on how we feel and what we think about the death of our child. Living from our spirit means we are choosing to live from a higher realm; from a place fully redeemed and the one our children are now living in.
The pain doesn’t disappear. But hope allows us to keep walking. It assures us that joy and purpose can still exist, even if it looks much different than we expected.
God’s resurrection power is already at work in you. Just like we can’t see what happens under the soil, we may not see what He’s doing beneath our grief. But one day, that seed will break through.
You will feel light again.
You will sense purpose again.
You will live again, and even have a productive life of meaning and purpose again.
Allow God to connect you with those who will bring His light into your place of darkness, because we really do heal better together. Every word of encouragement, every shared story, and every act of kindness helps multiply and nourish that seed of hope. And someday, you will become the one offering hope to others.
NOTE: This was partially taken from the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast episode 321. Click here to listen to the full discussion, or look for the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast on your favorite listening app.
You can also order your own signed copy of My Grief Journey to gently guide you through journaling and reflection after child loss here.
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.
How writing can help heal grief after child loss is something many bereaved parents never consider, at least not at first. When your child dies, you can barely breathe, let alone pick up a pen or open a blank document. But writing can become a lifeline, a safe place for the heart to speak what your voice cannot form into words.
John’s son, Stephen, died at just 22 years old. His death was sudden, heartbreaking, and life-shattering. Like many of us, John and his wife grieved very differently, and it would have been easy to drift apart. Instead, they learned not to judge each other’s grieving style.
Before his son died, John was already a journalist and author. But his writing changed after his loss. He discovered that writing wasn’t just something he 
When you put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard), things you didn’t even know you were holding often come out.
If you feel something stirring in you to write, even if it scares you, pay attention to that whisper. You don’t have to be “a writer” to write. You just have to be willing to show up on the page with honesty.
Even though writing is something you do alone, you are not alone on this journey. If you do start writing, I would love to hear about it in the comments below. If you get a special journal to write in, you can even share a picture of it 
Healing after pregnancy loss is a journey that can feel both lonely and sacred. Too often, this kind of loss isn’t acknowledged for the deep heartbreak it truly is. But whether the pregnancy loss was early or late, whether you held your baby or not, your love was real, and so is your grief. Today, I want to share a story that beautifully captures both the pain and the redemption that can come through 
Shelley shared how she and CJ spent years in ministry, serving as missionaries and then stepping out in faith to travel full-time in an RV. They dreamed of raising a family, but after several years, pregnancy didn’t come. But it finally did, only to end in devastating loss.
Eventually, Shelley came to a place of surrender, where she could tell God, 
Healing after pregnancy loss isn’t only a mother’s journey. Shelley shared that while she began to heal after that first year, CJ hadn’t yet processed his own grief. A counselor encouraged them to hold a ceremony together. They wrote a letter, prayed, named their baby C
Over the years, Shelley has found peace in trusting that God’s plans, though different from her dreams, are still good. “Because we didn’t have children, we’ve had the gift of time,” she said. “God has used that time in ministry and in ways we couldn’t have imagined.”
One of the things I loved about traveling in the Hope Mobile is how often God would meet me through His creation.
That same sense of awe often fills me when I stand at the ocean’s edge and watch the waves. The vastness of the sea reminds me of God’s love that is deep, unending, and powerful.
Another place that spoke to me deeply was a river we camped near during our travels. As I walked a path that followed the river, sometimes it would wind through the trees and I couldn’t see the water at all. There were times I could still hear it, and times I couldn’t. Then suddenly it would reappear, flowing beside me.
Back to those mountains I talked about, there was one morning I took a different trail that ended up climbing yet another mountain. This trail seemed to go on forever, and I started getting really tired, hoping it might connect with a shorter route back. I kept going, and when I reached the top, I was shocked to look way down below and see the top of the mountain that I had previously been on. I had no idea how far I had come until seeing where I had been before.
One of the most important things I want you to hear is this; release yourself from other people’s expectations. Some may think that after a year you should be “getting better,” but grief doesn’t follow a timeline.
Some bereaved parents want to be alone on this day. Others gather with friends or family. Some spend it crying, while others feel numb. Some find ways to celebrate their child’s life. However your grief shows up, it’s okay.
When Becca’s one-year mark came, some of my family wanted to gather and celebrate her life, while others didn’t. I was torn, and honestly, I don’t even remember what we ended up doing that year. And that’s okay.
