faith and grief – Naty Matos

The holiday season is often wrapped in bright lights, warm gatherings, and words like joy, peace, and merry. But for many, December doesn’t feel merry at all. Instead, it magnifies the ache of what—and who—is missing.

Maybe you’re facing the first Christmas without someone you love.
Maybe a divorce has fractured your sense of home.
Maybe a job loss has left you anxious about the future.
Maybe your health has shifted your daily reality.
Or maybe a broken relationship has left an empty chair at the table—and an even emptier space in your heart.

If you’re dreading the holidays this year, you’re not alone. And more importantly, you’re not forgotten by God.

Below is gentle truth, comfort, and hope for anyone walking into the season with grief, fear, or disappointment.

When You’re Grieving a Loved One

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

Loss has a way of turning familiar traditions into reminders of what has changed. What once brought joy may now stir pain. Grief doesn’t follow a calendar, and it certainly doesn’t pause for December.

Hopeful Hints

Give yourself permission to feel. God isn’t asking you to pretend.
Create a moment of remembrance—light a candle, share a story, display a photo.
Let this be a season of gentleness, not pressure.

Prayer Thought: “Lord, sit with me in this tender space where joy and sorrow coexist. Be my comfort today.”

When You’re Divorced or Separated

Scripture: “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3

Shifts in family structure can cast a spotlight on what’s been lost. Traditions change, routines break, and loneliness tries to creep in where connection used to dwell.

Hopeful Hints

Release the pressure to recreate the past.
Start small, new traditions that honor where you are now.
Surround yourself with voices that speak life, hope, and peace.

Prayer Thought: “God, restore my sense of belonging and rebuild the places within me that feel broken.”

When You’ve Lost a Job or Financial Stability

Scripture: “And my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” — Philippians 4:19

When finances are uncertain, the holiday season can feel overwhelming. Expectations rise, but resources don’t. Yet your value has never been tied to what you can buy, give, or provide.

Hopeful Hints

Simplify the season—meaning always matters more than material.
Seek support without shame; community is God’s design.
Remember that provision rests in God’s hands, not your performance.

Prayer Thought: “Lord, be my Provider. Show me Your abundance even in this season of lack.”

When Relationships Are Broken or Strained

Scripture: “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” — Romans 12:18

Heartbreak isn’t limited to romantic relationships. A shattered friendship, tension with a family member, or distance with a child can make the holidays especially painful.

Hopeful Hints

Let go of forced togetherness; sometimes peace means stepping back.
Protect your heart with healthy boundaries.
Pray for reconciliation, but also pray for your own healing.

Prayer Thought: “God, guide me in my relationships with grace, wisdom, and peace.”

When You’re Battling Health Issues

Scripture: “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9

Illness—whether physical or emotional—can make the holidays feel heavy. Low energy, constant pain, or limitations can reshape what celebration looks like.

Hopeful Hints

Celebrate what you can, not what you feel you must.
Prioritize rest over expectation.
Allow others to support you—this is not a burden you have to carry alone.

Prayer Thought: “Lord, strengthen me, comfort me, and give me grace for every moment.”

A Final Word of Hope

Even when the holidays feel overwhelming, Christmas itself was born into darkness. Jesus stepped into a weary, grieving, broken world—and He still steps into ours. His birth remains good news for heavy hearts.

Scripture to Hold Onto:
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” — John 1:5

Whether this season finds you mourning, adjusting, rebuilding, hoping, or simply surviving, you are seen. You are loved. And God is with you in every breath, every tear, and every quiet moment.

May this be a gentle December, where the presence of God becomes your greatest gift and your steady place of peace.

When I accompanied a friend to a funeral this weekend, I never anticipated the profound impact it would have on me. It wasn’t just the somber atmosphere or the tears that were shed; it was the raw, heart-wrenching emotions that stirred something deep within me. This experience made me reflect on life, loss, and the powerful messages we sometimes overlook in the midst of grief.

As we entered the funeral venue, the sight that greeted us was heartrending. The decedent’s sister lay on the floor, consumed by her grief, and not far away, his youngest daughters, who were about the same age I was when I lost my father, were crying out for their daddy. Their sobs pierced the air, and the depth of their pain left an indelible mark on my heart. It reminded me of my own childhood, missing my father at graduations and father-daughter events. My mother did her best to fill the void with stand-ins—a caring uncle, a supportive coworker, and, eventually, my beloved brother who walked me down the aisle. While I am grateful for their presence, they could never replace my dad.

“Girl Grayscale” by Teddy Tavan/ CC0 1.0

My heart ached for those girls, knowing the milestones they would miss without their father. I could relate to their pain all too well. But what truly broke my spirit was witnessing the decedent’s mother stand to read her son’s obituary. She began with a smile, thanking everyone for attending, but my thoughts immediately turned to the heartbreaking reality that no mother should ever have to bury her child.

I couldn’t help but recall my own mother’s grief when my sister passed away shortly before my father. My mother never truly recovered from that loss, carrying the weight of her grief for 44 years until the day she joined them in eternity. As a parent myself, the thought of losing my child is unbearable and unimaginable.

Yet, amidst this sea of sorrow, there was a message of hope that caught my attention. A speaker reminded us to rejoice because the departed soul was now with the Lord, free from suffering, and would be reunited with loved ones in the afterlife. While I share the belief in this reunion, the concept of joy upon a loved one’s death was not something I could readily embrace. It wasn’t my immediate response when comforting someone in grief.

From a believer’s standpoint, I’ve felt relief when those I love have passed because it reaffirms my hope of seeing them again. There have been loved ones whose salvation status remained uncertain to me, either due to different faiths, no faith at all, or lifestyles that left me hoping for a last-minute conversion. However, joy was not part of the equation. It was a complex mix of peace, relief, and hope.

The final message that resonated deeply with me was delivered by another speaker, urging us to reach out to our loved ones now because tomorrow is never guaranteed. It served as a stark reminder that I, like many, have people I love but have failed to connect with. I often think about them but don’t take the time to reach out. It’s a shortcoming I acknowledge.

Photo by Polina Tankilevitch on Pexels.com

This wake-up call was made more poignant by the fact that the decedent was younger than me. It’s a stark reminder that tomorrow is not promised to any of us. Living in the present and cherishing the people around us became an urgent priority in my heart.

While our original intentions for October were to discuss other important topics, I felt compelled to share this message. Funerals are not just about mourning the departed; they are an opportunity for reflection, growth, and the reevaluation of our own lives. In the face of loss, we can find strength and perspective that can lead us to live more intentionally and love more deeply.

In the end, it is our experiences, both joyful and sorrowful, that shape us into better, more compassionate individuals. So, let us remember to embrace the now, cherish our loved ones, and find solace in the hope of reunions in the afterlife, for it is in these moments that we truly understand the depth of our humanity and the power of our faith.