A reflection from a recent women’s retreat
Every now and then, life hands us a moment that doesn’t go according to plan… and somehow ends up being better because of it.
I recently spoke at a Christian women’s retreat on grief and loss, a topic that always feels tender and personal. I came fully prepared: slides, notes, my timing was all mapped out… all of it. And then, right as I was about to get started, I learned that my ancient computer died, and the projector wasn’t going to work.
No slides. No visuals. Just me, my outline, and a room full of women who came ready to receive something meaningful.
For a split second, I felt that familiar internal jolt: “Oh no… am I ready without my plan?”
But once I started talking, something really beautiful happened. The room softened. People leaned in. The conversation felt more like a genuine connection rather than a presentation.
And I realized that the sincerity was stronger without the screen.
Grief is kind of like that.
We think we need all the pieces lined up, the “right” words, a plan for how to get through it. But most of the real healing happens in the in-between spaces where things aren’t polished. Where we’re honest. Where our humanity shows.
During the retreat, we talked about what grief actually looks like, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. We talked about how it impacts the nervous system, how it can leave us feeling foggy or overwhelmed, and how hard it can be to carry our sadness when life expects us to keep going.
But we also talked about the myths many of us grew up with:
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“I should be over this by now.”
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“Strong Christians don’t fall apart.”
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“If my faith were stronger, I wouldn’t feel this way.”
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“Grief follows neat stages.”
And then we spoke truth over those myths — clinical truth and Biblical truth.
Because grief doesn’t have a timeline.
Tears aren’t weakness.
Faith doesn’t cancel out emotion.
And healing is anything but linear.
One Scripture in particular grounded our time together:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.” — Psalm 34:18
Not after we’ve pulled ourselves together.
Not once we’ve stopped crying.
But right there — in the thick of it.
And I think that’s what made the retreat moment so special. Without slides or structure, what was left was presence. Emotions. Compassion. Authentic connection. Shared stories. A sense that God was right there in the room, meeting each of us right where we were.
If you’re navigating grief right now, whether it’s fresh, still lingering, or resurfacing around the holidays, here’s a gentle reminder:
You’re not doing it wrong. You’re not too much.
You’re not weak for feeling things so deeply.
Your grief doesn’t disqualify your faith.
And your emotions are not too much for God.
Take a breath.
Let yourself receive grace for a moment.
Let yourself be human, loved, seen, and held.
Everything doesn’t have to go according to plan for something meaningful to happen.
Sometimes the most healing things unfold in the spaces we didn’t expect.
If you’d like more resources on navigating grief, emotional regulation, or Christian-informed wellness, you’re invited to stay connected through Red Cedar Therapy and the Branches of Wellness blog.
Disclaimer: This blog is intended for educational and informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional mental health treatment, diagnosis, or individualized therapy. Reading this content does not establish a therapist–client relationship. If you are experiencing distress or a mental health emergency, please seek support from a licensed professional or local emergency services.