A Pappy’s Place Devotional
Today’s Scripture — Psalm 34:18 (ESV)
“The LORD is near to the brokenhearted
and saves the crushed in spirit.”
This Christian grief devotional isn’t about explaining away the pain or telling you it’s time to move on. There are some things in life you get through and leave behind. Grief usually isn’t one of them.
When we lose somebody we love, people sometimes talk about “moving on” as though grief were a stretch of bad road we eventually drive beyond.
I’m not sure that’s the best way to describe it.
You learn to carry it.
At first, grief can fill nearly every corner of your life. Eventually, there may be laughter again. Normal days return. You find yourself enjoying something without immediately feeling guilty about enjoying it.
But then a song plays.
You smell something familiar.
A birthday arrives.
You reach for the phone before remembering there’s nobody there to answer.
And suddenly something that happened months—or years—ago feels like yesterday.
That’s grief.
And if you’re there today, Scripture doesn’t tell you to pretend it doesn’t hurt.
Jesus Wept
One of the shortest verses in the Bible may also be one of the most comforting:
“Jesus wept.” — John 11:35 (ESV)
Jesus knew Lazarus was about to walk out of that tomb.
Think about that.
Christ knew death wasn’t going to have the final word that day, yet when He stood among grieving people He loved, Jesus wept with them.
That tells us something important.
Grief isn’t evidence of weak faith.
Tears aren’t evidence that you’ve forgotten God’s promises.
Sometimes tears simply mean you loved somebody.
Jesus didn’t stand outside Lazarus’s tomb and tell everybody to quit crying because everything would eventually be okay.
He entered their sorrow.
Our Savior knows what tears feel like.
God Doesn’t Ask Us to Pretend
The Bible is remarkably honest about suffering.
David cried out to God.
Job grieved.
Jeremiah lamented.
The disciples mourned.
Even Jesus, in Gethsemane, described His soul as “very sorrowful, even to death.”
Biblical faith isn’t pretending everything feels wonderful because we believe in God.
Faith sometimes sounds like:
“God, this hurts, and I need You.”
You don’t have to clean up that prayer.
You don’t have to use church words.
You don’t have to convince God that you’re doing better than you really are.
He already knows.
Psalm 56:8 says:
“You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?” — Psalm 56:8 (ESV)
What a picture.
Your tears aren’t unnoticed.
Your sleepless nights aren’t unnoticed.
The empty chair isn’t unnoticed.
You aren’t unnoticed.
Grief Doesn’t Follow a Schedule
There isn’t a biblical timetable that says you get thirty days to grieve and then you’re supposed to be finished.
Some days will be easier.
Some won’t.
And strangely enough, a hard day may come immediately after several good ones.
That doesn’t mean you’ve gone backward.
Grief doesn’t travel in a straight line.
Give yourself permission to miss them.
Give yourself permission to laugh when a good memory comes back.
Give yourself permission to cry when that same memory hurts.
And give other people grace too. People often don’t know what to say around grief. Sometimes they’ll say something clumsy because they’re desperately trying to help.
You don’t have to have everything figured out.
Today is enough.
God Is Near in the Empty Places
Psalm 34 doesn’t say God is disappointed with the brokenhearted.
It says:
“The LORD is near to the brokenhearted.”
Near.
There are seasons when God’s presence feels obvious.
There are others when prayer seems difficult and Heaven feels quiet.
Grief can be one of those seasons.
But God’s presence isn’t measured by our ability to feel it.
When you can’t find the words to pray, Romans gives another remarkable promise:
“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us…” — Romans 8:26 (ESV)
There may be nights when your entire prayer is:
“Lord, help me.”
That’s still prayer.
And He hears it.
Christians Grieve With Hope
Faith doesn’t eliminate grief.
It changes what lies beyond it.
Paul wrote to Christians who were grieving people they loved:
“that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope.” — 1 Thessalonians 4:13 (ESV)
Notice what Paul didn’t say.
He didn’t say Christians don’t grieve.
He said we don’t grieve without hope.
For those who belong to Christ, death does not get the final word.
Jesus does.
The resurrection of Jesus Christ is God’s declaration that the grave is not the end of the story.
That doesn’t make an empty chair less empty tonight.
But it means the empty chair isn’t the whole story.
Keep Living Without Feeling Guilty About It
Eventually, there may come a morning when you wake up and grief isn’t your first thought.
That’s okay.
You haven’t betrayed anybody.
There may come a day when you laugh until your sides hurt.
That’s okay too.
There may come new experiences, new friendships, new traditions, and new reasons to be grateful.
Living your life doesn’t erase the person you lost.
Love isn’t measured by how miserable we remain after somebody is gone.
You can remember them and still move forward.
You can miss them and still laugh.
You can carry sorrow and gratitude in the same heart.
Humans are capable of carrying both.
Something to Carry With You Today
If you’re grieving today, you don’t have to solve grief.
Just walk through today.
Eat something.
Get some rest.
Call somebody if the house feels too quiet.
Go outside.
Pray, even if all you can manage is a sentence.
And when that wave comes unexpectedly, don’t be ashamed of it.
Let it come.
Then remember:
God has not left you alone in it.
The Lord is near to the brokenhearted.
Jesus understands tears.
And for those who belong to Christ, there is a day coming when grief itself has an expiration date.
Revelation gives us a glimpse:
“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore…” — Revelation 21:4 (ESV)
Not fewer tears.
No more tears.
Not less death.
No more death.
Until that day, we grieve.
We remember.
We keep walking.
And when we’re too tired to walk very far, we trust God with the next step.
Prayer
Father, You know the people we miss and the places in our hearts that still hurt. Thank You that we don’t have to hide our grief from You. When memories bring tears, stay close. When the house feels too quiet, remind us that we are not alone. Give strength for the difficult days, gratitude for the memories that make us smile, and grace when grief catches us unexpectedly. Help us grieve honestly without losing hope. Thank You for Jesus, for the resurrection, and for Your promise that death will not have the final word. Until the day when You wipe away every tear, hold us close and help us take one day at a time. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
