Psalm 34:18 The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Maybe it is because Thanksgiving falls on the twenty seventh. The same twenty seventh that marks six months since my baby girl took her last breath. Six months since my life shifted in a way that I still struggle to comprehend. Six months since everything familiar felt unfamiliar.

I feel myself moving from Scripture to silence again.

It is not that I do not believe God. It is not that I do not love Him. It is that grief has a way of taking the words right out of your mouth. I open my Bible but sometimes it feels like my eyes are reading while my spirit is standing still. November has triggered memories, emotions, and flashbacks that I never prepared my heart for.

Every commercial reminds me. Every aisle in the store reminds me. Every family gathered at a table reminds me. And that calendar date sits there waiting to collide with the holiday like a weight on my chest. I am trying to hold on to the little strength I have. I am trying to honor my daughter while navigating a month that pushes me between gratitude and grief every single day.

I am learning that faith looks different in seasons like this. It is softer. It is quieter. It does not always come wrapped in Scriptures that make you feel strong. Sometimes faith looks like tears on the pillow and silence in the morning. Sometimes faith sounds like God, I cannot do this without You. Be near.

This week I realized that the silence does not mean He left me. It just means my heart is too full and too heavy to speak. God meets me here. In the quiet. In the confusion. In the places where I have no words. In the moments when the holiday season feels like too much and the countdown to six months feels like a punch to the chest.

Thanksgiving is supposed to be a celebration, but I am moving through it with a divided heart. My family will gather. Food will be cooked. Laughter will happen. But behind all of it lives the reality that my daughter is not physically here. Her seat at the table will be empty. And that emptiness feels louder than any celebration.

Yet somehow, in ways I cannot explain, God sits with me in that empty space. He knows what the twenty seventh means to me. He knows what this month stirred up. He knows what this loss has done to my spirit. And He does not rush me through it. He does not demand strength I do not have. He holds me in the silence until breath returns.

So I am giving myself permission to feel all of it. The gratitude. The grief. The memories. The ache. The silence. The Scripture. The love. The longing. It is all part of me now. It is all part of this journey of being a mother whose child is in Heaven.

November has triggered something deep, but I am still here. I am still standing. I am still carrying my daughter’s light. And even when I fall into silence, God still hears every cry my heart makes.

This Thanksgiving will be heavy, but so is the love that keeps me going. And that love is what carries me from Scripture to silence, and back again, one day at a time.

Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father, I come to You with a heart that is heavy and tender. For every reader who finds themselves between Scripture and silence, meet them right where they are. Remind them that silence does not separate them from You. It is the place where You hold them the closest. Wrap Your arms around every grieving heart. Give strength for the days that feel overwhelming and peace for the nights that feel long. Remind them that their tears are seen, their pain is heard, and their love is honored in Heaven and on earth. Lord, when our words disappear, let Your presence remain. When our spirits feel disconnected, let Your comfort draw near. When memories feel too heavy to carry alone, lift us in ways we cannot lift ourselves. Thank You for being close to the brokenhearted. Thank You for catching what we cannot hold. Thank You for staying with us in every chapter of this journey. May every reader feel Your gentle nearness, even in the quiet. In your precious name, I seal this prayer! 🙏🏿 Amen.