Grief, Grace, and the Gift of Silence

Introduction

August came and went—and I didn’t write a single blog post.Not because I didn’t care. Not because I didn’t have something to say. But because I was living in the silence.

I’ve always said that silence doesn’t mean absence. But living through it—especially after loss—reminds you just how heavy and holy silence can be. Grief does that. It slows you down. It rearranges your priorities. It pushes your spirit into spaces where words can’t go.

This blog isn’t about what I accomplished in August it's about what I felt. What I carried. What I let go of. It's about grief, grace, and the kind of silence that doesn't weaken you—but rebuilds you from the inside out.

When Words Stop, Grief Speaks

After the passing of my father, I found myself unable to create the way I normally would. I had ideas. I had thoughts. But I didn’t have the energy to shape them into anything public.

What I did have were moments. Moments where I sat still. Moments where I looked at photos of Daddy and remembered the layers of who he was. Moments where I felt peace and sorrow occupy the same room.

That’s the hard part about grief—it’s not always loud. Sometimes, it just settles into the corners of your day, showing up in ways you didn’t expect.

The Grace in Not Producing

We live in a world that demands output. Be consistent. Be visible. Stay relevant. But what happens when your soul needs quiet?

That’s where grace met me. Not the fluffy kind of grace, but the kind that reminds you that your value doesn’t change just because you paused.

There was grace in saying, “Not this month.” There was grace in knowing that silence wasn’t failure. And there was grace in remembering that God can still minister to others—even through your stillness.

The Gift of Silence

Silence doesn’t mean you’re doing nothing.Sometimes silence is where the deepest work is being done.

“In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.” – Isaiah 30:15

Silence allowed me to:

• Reflect on my father’s legacy

• Hear God without the noise of obligation

• Let my emotions rise without explaining them away

• Heal privately, without performance

I believe silence is one of the most underused forms of spiritual discipline. It’s in the quiet that clarity returns. It’s in the quiet that we hear the truth. And it’s in the quiet that our next steps are revealed—not through force, but through faith.

If You’re in a Silent Season Too

I want to speak to the woman who feels like she’s “doing nothing.”To the leader who hasn’t been able to show up like she used to. To the daughter who’s grieving and unsure what to do next.

Here’s what I want you to know:

• You’re not behind.

• You’re not invisible.

• You’re not broken.

• You’re just in a space that requires stillness.

• And that’s okay.

Conclusion

I’m slowly finding my way back to writing again. Not because I’m fully “back,” but because I’m honoring what God is depositing into me little by little. This blog is a piece of that.

If you’re walking through a similar season—be gentle with yourself. Honor the silence. Give your grief space. Let grace cover the gap.

And when you're ready to speak again, you’ll do so with more depth than you ever imagined.