Chapter 1: Grief
Growing Through Grief
“For everything there is a season, a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;” Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 ESV
My godmother’s favorite verse. The second verse I had memorized after, “For God so loved the world…” John 3:16. My godmother, who I called Nanny, was childhood best friends with my Granny. They did life together. In Hallmark movie fashion, my Granny’s eldest son married my Nanny’s eldest daughter, and they had 7 children of their own. One summer, in 2007, I traveled with our families’ matriarchs to visit my aunt, uncle, and cousins in California. That summer was spent memorizing the books of the Bible and my Nanny’s favorite verse.
My Nanny was the most faithful woman I’ve ever known. I still remember her old worn Bible she would pull out every day, filled with stickies and highlighter. She was everyone’s VBS and Sunday School teacher, and I mean everybody. I never understood why she would read so often; the words never changed, but back then there was so much about faith I didn’t understand.
“A time to be born, and a time to die;” Birth, something I am very familiar with, it seemed there was always a new baby being welcomed into the family. We were blessed to have such new life surrounding us. Together, we make up a total of 20 grandchildren and 32 great-grandchildren. We are closer than you could ever imagine; my Granny raised us that way. Death, however, wasn’t something I had encountered until my Nanny passed away. Shortly after that summer, in 2007, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. At first, her decline seemed fast; all of a sudden, she just wasn’t herself. Whenever I would go home to visit, I’d try to see her, but each visit became harder and harder. On December 25th, 2016, I decided to give my life to Christ, new life. On January 8th, 2017, my Nanny passed away, my first encounter with death. Still, the gravity of it didn’t fully hit me; after all, I KNEW she was in a better place, and rest seemed like a mercy when compared to the suffering she endured towards the end of her life. We got together as a family and celebrated her, at our home church, the very church she Christened me 22 years earlier.
Grief came even closer with the passing of my Granny within a year of me becoming a mother, July 4th, 2023. Her passing took us all by surprise. Even though up until that point I had strayed away from my relationship with the Lord, I was one of the lost sheep our Great Shepherd went after. I was baptized Easter Sunday, March 31st 2024, celebrating new life. But the loss we had experienced didn’t stop there, May 24th, 2024 my mother passed away.
One heartbreak after another and this season of grief still wasn’t over. My godfather was the only son and eldest child of the union between my aunt and uncle, joining together the families of two childhood best friends. A true man of God, he watched over me throughout my life, making sure I always kept my head on straight. He didn’t avoid the tough conversations and never missed a birthday. One of our last conversations was him congratulating us on expecting our second baby girl, due in August 2025. He passed away before he could meet her, on June 20th, 2025.
October 25th, 2025 my husband and I just left an unbelievably powerful conference. 7,000 believers gathered together in a church in Atlanta for worship, discipleship, and community. The Holy Spirit was tangibly moving through the crowd saving one after another, healing hearts, bringing each of us closer to God. It felt like a little piece of heaven here on earth. That night, after returning home, I received a phone call that shattered me. One of my cousins suddenly passed away- he was enigmatic, charismatic, and it was unbelievable that he was gone.
Over and over again we have been thrust into the throes of grief. In each instance of celebrating birth and being born again, we were met with death shortly after. We know this is what it’s like here on earth after the fall. We know what is to come and we expect it, but nothing prepared me for consistently being thrown from the mountaintops into the valleys. The confusing and heartbreaking feelings I felt towards the Lord were initially almost too much to bear. How do you reconcile suffering and the goodness of God?
If you’ve ever felt like grief keeps finding you just as life begins to feel full again, you’re not alone.
“A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted” My first year of gardening, cucumbers were one of the only fruits that grew prolifically. When you grow cucumbers and they begin to produce fruit, you always harvest before they reach full maturity. The reason is, if the cucumber becomes fully ripe and matures on the vine, the entire plant begins to wilt and dies back. It’s served its ultimate purpose, the plant produced a mature fruit that will go on to produce new life. Not to reduce the tension of life and death to a simple analogy, but what a grace it is to live a life that bears mature fruit which you can trust to go forward and create new life; much like our ultimate purpose to bear good fruit and make disciples.
These seasons of grief were teaching me so much about grace, God giving us blessings we do not deserve. Even in the moments that don’t seem like blessings are running over, we have to remember that we are saved BY grace through faith- Ephesians 2:8, and it is because of God’s grace that the lives of the faithful don’t end here.
“A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;” Being from New Orleans, there is one thing we are good at—celebrating life. Everyone has surely witnessed a second line; it’s a part of the heritage and culture of the Crescent City. Families and communities come together to remember the lives and celebrate the homegoing of their loved ones. We are not strangers to dancing in times of mourning or laughing in moments we should be weeping. When we’re all together, we find joy in love, unity, and memories of those no longer with us.
But it’s the quiet moments, the times where no one is around, where the silence is deafening. Where all you have are your memories and your longing to make new ones with those who are no longer here. How do you get through? You weep. You scream. You cry out to God. You ask him why. And He answers— “My ways are higher than your ways, my thoughts higher than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8-9. We will never understand on this side of heaven. But we have to trust in the goodness of God.
These stories aren’t meant to be an anthology of my family tree. They are intended to point you to the sovereignty of God. The One who knits us together in our mother’s wombs, who carefully weaves our stories and intertwines them with others, who brings us new life when another life is laid to rest, who creates beauty and light from the ugly darkness of this world.
“For everything there is a season, a time for every matter under heaven” Seasons aren’t just for our gardens. Our lives go through seasons of new life, pruning, growing, harvesting, and rest. Growth takes time. Healing takes time. We have to trust in God’s timing and believe that He is who He says He is.
Still, grief isn’t a linear path. It may mark the season but it does not have the final word. Where do we go from here? Join me next week as I explore feelings of doubt in the face of grief and God’s responses to our questions.
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In loving memory of Dolores Hayes, Daisy Winslow, Jacqueline Winslow, Corey Chambliss, and Duane Winslow.
