There are some kinds of grief that change you forever.

Grief isn’t always about losing someone we love. Sometimes we grieve a marriage that ended, a family that changed, a dream that never came true, a season of life we thought would last forever, or the person we used to be before life asked us to become someone new.

And sometimes, grief arrives in ways we never expected.

It can find us in the quiet of the morning. In an empty chair. In an old photograph. In a song we weren’t prepared to hear. In a holiday, a birthday, or an ordinary Tuesday when something suddenly reminds us of what—or who—we’ve lost.

For a long time, I thought healing meant getting to the point where it didn’t hurt anymore.

I’m learning that healing looks different.

Healing doesn’t mean forgetting.

It doesn’t mean pretending we’re okay when we’re not.

It doesn’t mean rushing through the hard days because someone else thinks we should be “over it” by now.

Healing means learning how to carry what happened without allowing it to carry us.

It means giving ourselves permission to grieve the things we wish had been different.

It means crying when we need to cry.

Resting when we are tired.

Talking about the people and places we miss.

And sometimes, it means simply making it through today.

There is no perfect timeline for grief. No calendar that tells your heart when it should be finished hurting.

Some days you may feel strong, and the next day you may find yourself sitting on the floor wondering how you got back here.

That doesn’t mean you’re going backward.

It means you’re human.

And if you are walking through grief right now, I want you to know something:

You don't have to have it all figured out.

You don't have to be strong every minute.

You don't have to hide your tears.

You don't have to apologize for still missing someone or mourning something that mattered deeply to you.

Give yourself grace.

Healing is often quiet. It happens little by little—in the moments when you choose to get out of bed, take another breath, open your heart again, laugh without feeling guilty, or believe that there might still be something beautiful waiting for you.

And if your faith is part of your story, remember this:

God is not afraid of your grief.

You don't have to clean up your heart before bringing it to Him.

Bring Him the questions.

Bring Him the anger.

Bring Him the tears.

Bring Him the loneliness.

Bring Him the pieces you don't know how to put back together.

He can meet you right there.

Sometimes healing doesn't look like getting back to the person you were before.

Sometimes healing is becoming someone new—someone softer in some places, stronger in others, more compassionate, more grateful, and more aware of just how precious this life really is.

So, if you're grieving today, sit with us a while.

You don't have to pretend here.

You are allowed to remember.

You are allowed to hurt.

You are allowed to hope.

And most importantly, you are not alone.

Pull up a chair on the porch.

There's room for you here.

— The Southern Porch Collective

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