Learning to Heal with Honesty, Grace, and Permission
Grief is something we all experience, but no one really teaches us how to walk through it.
Before we step into two key ideas—perception and permission—I want to slow down and highlight a few truths about grief. These aren’t just ideas—they’re things many of us learn the hard way, often through our own stories.
A Few Gentle Truths About Grief
Grief isn’t linear
You’ve probably heard of the “stages of grief.” And while they can be helpful, they don’t fully capture what grief actually feels like.
Grief doesn’t move in a straight line—it comes in waves, in seasons, and sometimes at the most unexpected times.
For me, that’s been especially true with my dad. The older I get, and the more I understand what it means to carry responsibility—to show up for others, to lead, to provide—the more I find myself missing him. Not less… but more.
That can feel confusing at first. Shouldn’t it fade with time?
But grief doesn’t work that way. It deepens as our understanding deepens. And that’s not regression—that’s love continuing to grow.
Everyone grieves differently—and in their own time
There is no “right timeline” for grief.
Some people begin processing right away. Others don’t fully feel it until much later.
I didn’t truly grieve my dad until I was 35. That’s when things started to surface in a real way—and honestly, it wasn’t pretty at first. It was messy, uncomfortable, and at times overwhelming.
But that was also the beginning of real healing.
There’s a difference between giving yourself time… and unintentionally avoiding what needs to be felt. And when grief finally catches up to you, it’s not because you failed—it’s because your heart is ready.
Grief isn’t just about death
We often think grief only applies when someone dies, but it’s much broader than that.
Grief is the loss of anything meaningful.
- Losing a parent
- Losing a grandparent
- Losing what you thought your life would look like
You can grieve people—and you can grieve expectations.
There’s a phrase in Spanish—“me hace falta”—which means “something is missing from me.” French has a similar expression—“tu me manques.”
These phrases beautifully capture the essence of grief: something that once was, is no longer—and you feel its absence deeply.
You’re allowed to feel ALL of it
Grief is not just sadness.
It can look like:
- Deep sadness
- Anger
- Confusion
- And even… joy
I remember walking through grief and feeling anger—real anger. At one point, I even wrestled with thoughts like, “God, You wanted to be my Father—so where were You in this?”
That’s not something we always feel comfortable saying out loud. But it was real. And it needed to be processed, not pushed down.
And then there’s joy.
That one surprises people, but it’s true—you can laugh while grieving. I remember moments at my grandfather’s funeral where laughter broke through the heaviness. Stories were shared. Memories surfaced. And for a moment, joy and grief sat in the same space.
That’s not wrong—that’s human.
Grief asks questions—and that’s okay
Grief has a voice, and it often sounds like questions:
- Did this really happen to me?
- What if I had done something differently?
Those “what if” and “if only” thoughts—what we often call bargaining—are part of the process.
Instead of shutting those questions down, it’s important to acknowledge them. They’re part of how we make sense of loss.
Lesson 1: How Perception Can Get in the Way
Here’s a hard but honest truth:
Sometimes what makes grief heavier isn’t the grief itself—it’s how we think it will be perceived.
We start filtering our emotions through what others might think.
The messages we hear (and carry)
Many of us have absorbed messages like:
- “Pull yourself up by your bootstraps.”
- “That happened so long ago.”
- “You should be over this by now.”
- “Be strong.”
- “You’re too emotional.”
- “You’re too sensitive.”
Even something like “You are so strong” can quietly communicate, “Don’t let yourself fall apart.”
So instead of processing grief, we manage how we appear.
And that can quietly stop healing in its tracks.
Misunderstandings about God and grief
Sometimes the pressure isn’t just from people—it’s from what we believe God thinks about us.
I’ve wrestled with thoughts like:
- “If I really trusted God, I wouldn’t feel this way.”
- “Does this mean I think His plan wasn’t good?”
- “Will He think I don’t believe He loves me?”
But those thoughts don’t reflect God’s heart.
They actually keep us from bringing our full selves to Him.
The lies we tell ourselves
If I’m honest, most of the lies I’ve believed about my own grief were shaped by what I thought others would think—and what I thought God expected.
One of the biggest ones?
“If I just don’t think about it, it won’t hurt.”
But that’s not how it works.
Even when we avoid grief mentally, it shows up physically, emotionally, and relationally. The body keeps track. The heart doesn’t forget.
Lesson 2: Permission Changes Everything
If perception holds grief back, then permission is what allows it to move.
And because we’re so used to filtering everything through perception, giving ourselves permission often has to be intentional.
Why permission matters
Permission allows grief to pass through us instead of taking root in us.
Because when grief gets stuck, it can grow into deeper struggles—like anxiety, depression, emotional disconnection, or even physical strain.
But when we allow ourselves to feel it, we create space for healing—across every part of our lives.
What it looks like to give permission
- God gives you permission
God is not distant from grief—He understands it.
We see it throughout Scripture:
- In the death of Lazarus
- In the sorrow over humanity in Genesis
- In the grief over brokenness and rebellion
And in Psalm 56:8, we’re given this beautiful picture:
“You have taken account of my miseries; put my tears in Your bottle.”
That means your grief is not ignored—it’s seen, counted, and held.
God does not reject your grief—He collects it.
When you allow yourself to grieve, you are not pushing God away—you are making space for His comfort.
So the idea that God is disappointed in your grief?
That’s not truth—that’s a barrier.
Because when we believe that, we actually limit the comfort He wants to give.
2. You give others permission
When someone else is grieving, your instincts are probably already healthy:
- You show compassion
- You give them space
- You don’t rush their process
You understand that grief needs room.
3. Now… give that same permission to yourself
This is where everything comes together.
You’ve seen that God gives you permission to grieve.
You already give others permission to grieve.
Now the question is:
Will you give that same permission to yourself?
Closing Thought
You don’t have to rush this.
You don’t have to perform strength.
You don’t have to hide parts of your story.
Your grief—whether it’s from losing your dad, your grandfather, or even the life you thought you’d have—matters.
Let go of perception.
Lean into permission.
And remind yourself, gently and honestly:
“I’m allowed to feel this.”
Because you are.
