Grief Doesn’t Tell Time — Learning to Be Patient with Loss and Yourself
One of the hardest things I’ve learned about grief is this: grief doesn’t tell time.
Loss doesn’t wear a wristwatch.
It doesn’t follow a calendar.
It doesn’t care if a certain number of weeks, months, or even years have passed.
Grief has its own clock — and it moves at its own pace.
The World Wants Us to Move On
In many ways, our culture is uncomfortable with grief. We like beginnings and endings. We like checklists and solutions. We like tidy stories.
But grief isn’t tidy.
Grief lingers. It weaves itself into ordinary moments when we least expect it.
Sometimes a memory will surface so suddenly it feels like the loss just happened yesterday — even if it’s been years.
Sometimes the ache softens, only to come roaring back out of nowhere.
If you’ve ever wondered, “Why am I still struggling?” — you’re not alone.
Grief Is Not a Straight Line
Early in my own grief journey — after losing our son, my father, my brother, and my best friend — I assumed healing would look like progress.
I expected a forward motion:
Pain → Less Pain → Acceptance → Peace
But real grief doesn’t travel like that.
It loops. It circles back. It pauses. It even rests quietly for a while before returning.
Sometimes the smallest things — a song, a scent, a place — can stir up fresh tears.
Grief is not weakness. It’s love that has nowhere else to go.
Learning to Be Patient with Loss — And with Ourselves
Psalm 34:18 tells us:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
Notice — it doesn’t say, “The Lord is close until you should be over it.”
It says God stays near.
Always.
Giving Ourselves Permission to Grieve Slowly
If I could sit across from anyone grieving today, I’d say this:
→ Be kind to yourself.
→ There is no deadline for missing someone you love.
→ There is no timeline for healing a heart.
Some wounds change us forever — and that’s okay. We learn to carry them with grace. We learn to love alongside them.
Grief doesn’t disappear. But we grow around it.
Grief and Gentle Hope Can Coexist
Over time, I’ve found that grief makes room for new things, too.
Laughter returns — often unexpectedly.
Joy arrives like wildflowers in a field you thought was barren.
Love never really leaves — it just looks different.
Closing Reflection: Let Grace Set the Pace
If grief doesn’t tell time — maybe we shouldn’t try to either.
Healing is slow, sacred work.
God is not in a hurry with your heart.
Let grace set the pace.
Reflection Question:
Where do you need to offer yourself more patience and kindness in your grief journey?