Valentine’s Day is commonly framed as a celebration of affection – shared with a spouse, friends, family, and even quietly with yourself and God. Yet for a lot of, today doesn’t stir joy but ache. It becomes a painful reminder of what has been lost: a friendship that faded, a relationship that ended, a wedding that broke, or a loved one who has died. This reflection is for individuals who are grieving.
To have loved deeply and to have been loved in return is certainly one of life’s biggest gifts. But when that love is taken away, grief follows. And grief, in some ways, never fully leaves. It may soften with time, nevertheless it lingers like a wound that has closed but still aches, easily reopened by a memory, a song, a spot, or a passing moment. Eventually, you learn easy methods to live alongside it – a quiet hum beneath day by day life.
As Vision from Marvel’s WandaVision so poignantly put it, “What is grief, if not love persevering?”
In the midst of that pain, it might probably feel unbearably isolating, as if nobody else truly understands what you carry. But what when you weren’t as alone as you’re feeling? What if there may be Someone who understands your grief more deeply than you ever could? (Psalm 34:18). A loving Father who looks upon you with compassion and longs to lift the load you bear (Lamentations 3:32-33). Not One who’s distant or indifferent, but One who knows sorrow intimately because He experiences it day by day.
God created the world out of affection, desiring relationship, joy, and communion with humanity (Genesis 1). Yet that love was not returned (Genesis 3). We turned away. We selected the creation over the Creator (Romans 1:21-25). And in doing so, we cut ourselves off from the very Source of life (John 1:4). From God’s perspective, this was death, and He grieves this fallen world (Ephesians 2:1; Genesis 6:6).
Yet grief didn’t lead Him to desert us. God’s answer to grief was not distance, but nearness (John 1:14; Matthew 1:23). Because He is love, He selected restoration over rejection. He gave His one and only Son – His very self – in order that what was broken might be made whole again (1 John 4:9-10; Romans 5:8; Colossians 1:19-20). Through Jesus’ death and resurrection, loss doesn’t have the ultimate word. Death is not any longer the top (1 Corinthians 15:54-55; John 11:25-26). Life is obtainable again. Hope is reborn (1 Peter 1:3).
And this is the reason God is the treatment for grief (Psalm 147:3). In Him, you’re fully known and deeply loved (Psalm 139:1-4; Romans 8:38-39). You aren’t forgotten, not discarded, not beyond healing (Isaiah 49:15-16; John 6:37; Jeremiah 30:17). There is all the time hope – one other day, one other likelihood, and an eternity where pain not exists (Lamentations 3:22-23; Isaiah 34:18-19; Revelation 21:4; Romans 8:18). A future where love is not any longer fragile or fleeting (1 Corinthians 13:8; 1 John 4:16).
So, in your grief, please turn toward Him. Pour your heart out to the One who’s already pouring His love into you. Bring Him your anger, your longing, your unanswered questions.
Dear reader, you don’t grieve alone – “The Lord is near the brokenhearted and saves those that are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). And your grief won’t last without end – “Now is your time of grief, but I’ll see you again and you’ll rejoice, and nobody will take away your joy” (John 16:22).
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