“You’re not alone.” Those words can pull us back toward hope, especially when we’ve just heard painful news — a diagnosis, a death, the loss of a job, or a relationship ending. In moments like these, we often feel isolated, convinced no one else feels what we feel. And in one sense, that’s true — no one experiences grief the same way we do.<\/p>\n
But that isn’t the whole story. While we each experience loss differently, we all walk through it. Grief is universal, even when it feels deeply personal.<\/p>\n
Sometimes we use phrases like “traumatic loss” or “life events” to describe what we’re going through, but those words can sound clinical when our hearts are breaking. Loss has a name. A face. A story. We hurt. It isn’t enjoyable. And in those painful moments, well-intentioned phrases like, “You’ll be better for what you’re going through,” or “God will bring something good out of this,” can land heavily. Instead of comforting us, they can deepen the loneliness.<\/p>\n
This past Christmas, I was reminded again that God became one of us — Immanuel, “God with us.” That truth has carried me this year. I lost my mom suddenly in late April, not long after learning that my sister had received a cancer diagnosis the year before. Our family had been healthy for so long — and then everything changed. I needed to know, not just in theory but in experience, that God was near.<\/p>\n
Years ago, Joan Osborne recorded a song called “One of Us,” which wrestles with the idea of God identifying with humanity. Some people have concerns about the song making God seem too human, and I understand that. But there is something profoundly comforting in knowing God is not distant or detached — not “way up there,” uninterested in what happens to us here.<\/p>\n
Over 2,000 years ago, something extraordinary happened. God entered His own creation in Jesus. He came in a quiet, humble way — to a family not widely known or celebrated. Jesus grew up through every stage of life. He was a baby — completely dependent on others. He needed to be fed, carried, and cared for. He faced the ordinary challenges of growing up. He lived our human experience.<\/p>\n
Why? So, we would know that He understands — truly and fully.<\/p>\n
Scripture shows us that Jesus felt loss and grief deeply. I think of the likely death of His earthly father, Joseph, and of His tears at the tomb of His friend Lazarus. We don’t see a distant God standing above suffering. We see a compassionate Savior who stands beside us in it.<\/p>\n
Over these past eight months, I have been deeply grateful for friends and family who have simply been present — patient, loving, and willing to walk with me as I learn how to live in a new reality. Their presence has mattered more than any words could.<\/p>\n
Even more, I have come to recognize that God has not abandoned me. He has been with me — strengthening, sustaining, and surrounding me with His presence. In quiet moments of prayer, in memories shared, in tears and in small graces — I have sensed Immanuel.<\/p>\n
If you are walking through grief or loss of any kind, I want you to know this: you are not forgotten, and you are not alone. God is with you — not as an observer, but as One who understands pain and walks beside you in it.<\/p>\n
I am not alone.<\/p>\n
And neither are you.<\/p>\n
Fred La Plante, is the Pastor at Juneau Church of the Nazarene. “Living and Growing” is a weekly column written by different authors and submitted by local clergy and spiritual leaders.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Those words can pull us back toward hope, especially when we’ve just heard painful news. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1129,"featured_media":121708,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[568,131],"class_list":["post-121707","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-life","tag-column","tag-religion"],"yoast_head":"\n