Grief without a funeral.....

My heart is heavy.....

Grief is not only found in the shadow of death. Sometimes, grief is loud in the places where people still breathe, yet their presence is absent from your life.

It’s in the silence of being shunned away by your own blood. It’s in the ache of raising a little girl alone while the other parent chooses distance instead of presence.

It’s a different kind of loss—one that doesn’t come with a funeral, but with a daily reminder that something sacred is missing.

The Ache of Betrayal

I’ve carried the weight of being slandered, disowned, and whispered about by the very people who were supposed to be my safe place.

I’ve been dragged through smear campaigns that tore into my heart and chipped away at my mind.

What I wanted was peace. What I longed for was support. What I prayed for was family. Instead, what I got was neglect, betrayal, and the painful sting of lies.

And Yet, God…

God, in His goodness, has sent strangers into my life who became family in the truest sense of the word.

People who show up not because they share my bloodline, but because they carry compassion in their hearts. People who hug my daughter with love and cheer for her milestones like she is their own.

People who remind me that family is not always who you’re born to, but who God handpicks to stand beside you when others fall away.

What I’ve Learned About Pain

Here’s the truth I’ve learned: God does not cause our pain. He doesn’t orchestrate betrayal, abandonment, or slander.

That brokenness comes from human choices, from our own will, from a world that is far from perfect.

God does not implement the wounds—but He is the one who restores them. He steps into the shattered places and breathes life where there was only loss. He turns the ashes into beauty, not by erasing the past, but by redeeming it.

When Grief Shows Up

But grief doesn’t run on a schedule. It doesn’t politely knock before it barges into your day.

Sometimes it shows up out of nowhere, flooding you with memories, aching “what ifs,” and the kind of heaviness that feels like someone draped a wet blanket over your soul.

You could be laughing with your child, grocery shopping, or driving home from work, and suddenly it’s there—the reminder of what was lost and what never got to be.

The weight of it is brutal. It presses down on your chest, steals your breath, and reminds you that healing is not a straight line.

It’s not just sadness—it’s exhaustion. It’s soul-weary heaviness. It’s carrying something invisible that feels too big for your heart to hold.

Grief’s Lessons

Still, the grief lingers. There’s no easy way to put words around the hollow space inside when your child grows up missing the steady presence of both parents working together, even if love between them no longer exists.

It takes maturity and selflessness to show up for your child as a team, and the heartbreak lies in knowing how vital that is—and watching it slip away.

Grief changes you. It weaves itself into your daily life. Some days it feels like a dull ache in the background; other days, it feels like an open wound.

It can leave you questioning your worth, your belonging, your sanity.

But grief also teaches.

It teaches resilience. It teaches you how to stand when the floor caves in. It teaches you that even in abandonment, you are never truly alone.

God’s Redemption

The truth is, grief will shape you, but it doesn’t get the final say.

My heart carries scars, yes, but also courage. My daughter will grow up knowing what love looks like because I chose to embody it, even when it wasn’t given to me.

And when I look back, I see God’s fingerprints all over my story—not in the betrayal or the neglect, but in the restoration.

In the people that were sent to lift me. In the boldness placed within me. In the way I hear the whisper, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

This grief may have stolen pieces of my heart, but it also revealed the God who restores, the strangers who became family, and the love that refuses to die, even when others choose to walk away.

Reflective Journal Prompts

1. When has grief shown up for you unexpectedly? What did it feel like in your body, mind, and spirit?

2. Write about a moment when you longed for support but instead felt neglected. How did that shape the way you see family?

3. How does it feel to grieve the living, rather than the dead? What makes that grief unique for you?

4. Reflect on the difference between family by blood and family by God’s placement. Who has shown up for you in surprising ways?

5. Write a letter to the version of yourself who was slandered, disowned, or abandoned. What words of love and reassurance would you give her?

6. In what ways has grief made you stronger? Where do you see resilience in yourself that you didn’t before?

7. How do you want your child to understand love, family, and presence—even if one parent is absent?

8. What Bible verse or prayer brings you peace when grief feels heaviest? Write it down and reflect on how it carries you.

   
   

Closing Prayer

Holy Spirit,You see the depths of my heart—the grief, the wounds, the longing, and the heaviness that no one else can carry. You know the ache of being abandoned, slandered, and misunderstood, yet You remind me that I am never truly alone.

I lift this grief to You. The weight of it is often too heavy for me to bear, but I trust that You will exchange my sorrow for Your peace. Thank You for sending people into my life who remind me of Your love, even when family has turned away. Thank You for strangers who became family, for strength that rises even through tears, and for the promise that You will never leave me nor forsake me.

I pray over my child, that she will grow up enveloped in love, stability, and Your covering.

God, heal the broken pieces of my heart. Restore what was stolen. Teach me to walk in peace, even when it feels impossible, and anchor me in Your grace when grief floods my soul.

Amen.

Own Your Light,

Soldier Mom