Grief changes everything—including how we experience joy.
Sometimes, it feels like joy is a faraway place we used to live… and we’re not sure if we’re allowed back.
It can feel wrong to smile when someone we love is gone.
Wrong to laugh when our hearts still ache.
Wrong to enjoy a moment when the world still feels cracked open.
But here’s what I’ve learned: joy and sorrow can coexist.
And choosing joy doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten your pain—it means you’ve chosen not to let it rule your life.
Grief and the Gloom That Lingers
Grief has a way of settling over us like a fog.
It dulls the colors.
It slows our steps.
It makes the world feel heavy—even when the sun is shining.
This gloom is understandable. It’s the shadow of love that no longer has a place to go.
But eventually, we’re invited to open the windows again.
To let in light.
To laugh—awkwardly, tearfully, beautifully.
To remember what it feels like to be alive.
Joy Is a Rebellion—and a Release
Joy in grief is not loud or flashy.
It’s quiet. It’s sacred.
It’s a moment of peace in the middle of the storm.
💜 A memory that makes you laugh more than cry.
💜 A sunset that reminds you you’re still here.
💜 A child’s giggle that cracks open something tender inside you.
💜 A song, a scent, a smile that lifts the gloom just enough.
Joy doesn’t erase grief. It expands the heart to hold both.
And in that expansion… healing begins.
What Joy Looks Like in Grief
🕊 Giving yourself permission to feel joy without guilt.
🕊 Letting lightness coexist with sorrow.
🕊 Noticing beauty in the ordinary—then choosing to lean into it.
🕊 Trusting that joy is a form of remembering, not forgetting.
Joy says: “I carry their love forward. I live well, because they lived.”
Your Invitation This Week
💭 Where has gloom been lingering in your heart?
💭 What does joy look like for you right now? (It doesn’t have to be loud—just real.)
💭 Are you willing to let a little more light in… even if it comes with tears?
This is the end of our Lenten journey.
But it could be the beginning of something new.
We have let go of so much these last seven weeks.
Now, may we rise with peace… and reach for joy.
Because you, dear one, are still here.
And that is reason enough to smile.