My family will come together this holiday season, holding the memories of what we’ve lost and the promise of what’s to come, as we celebrate with new faces and the stories that shape our lives.

My sister, mother, brother—my unwavering support system, who, along with many others, upheld my family when my husband of 18 years became my late husband who would no longer walk with us. The man whose integrity and faithfulness once served as a steady pillar of righteousness in our home was gone. 

Cancer robbed my family of a father whose wisdom, strength, and love shaped the very foundation of his kids’ lives. Watching them walk their paths in the shadow of his absence creates an ache I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Yet, I watch them continue to grow, becoming who we hoped they would be, without him. His legacy remains, etched in the imprint of their footprints.

Though the absence of love lost to the inevitability of death is often felt when lights line the street and carols hang in the air, it is also met by the richness of the moments we share together now. As we become accustomed to life with grief, these echoes transform into markers of lives that mattered and love that persists. The laughter we can’t hear but still feel, the empty chairs once filled by a mother, a husband, an uncle, grandparents, a friend, a child, or father, all linger in memories that serve as scaffolding, supporting us as we move forward.

Yet, in the midst of grief, we find that it does not define us, nor does it erase joy. As Isaiah 61:3 proclaims, God offers us “a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.” While the loss is real, so too is the promise of restoration. Just as the ache of missing loved ones is cradled in the warmth of our memories, God’s common grace for us is a future that moves and breathes in real time, not a life that becomes stagnant because the effects of a fallen world are felt. 

Alongside the ache of what has been lost, there is room for new. Here hope holds. Chairs can be added to the table—newfound friends, growing family members, and blossoming relationships. It’s not about replacing those we’ve lost but about letting love expand, a convergence of the old and the new together in ways that play with paradox but embrace truth. As life continues, rooms fill in unique ways, because one thing this past year has profoundly taught me is that the human heart can hold the weight of sorrow and still welcome the untold depth of life unfolding—the present future meets us where we are and can pull us forward into spaces we never envisioned.

Moving forward demands courage that allows us to live a life that looks different from what we once imagined, yet still holds depth, purpose, and meaning. It’s the kind of faith that trusts God to redeem the unexpected and show us that the exquisiteness of life can be found even in uncharted territory. It is faith that endures. Just because our hearts begin to open to new love, new joys, and new chapters, does not mean the love we lost was any less significant. The love that has shaped us and made us who we are does not fade when new love enters the scene—it simply expands. Life may not have turned out how we planned, but it’s still good, and I refuse to feel guilty about finding joy again. The love we’ve lost and the love we’ve found both hold their own in the plot lines that make a life, each valuable, each precious, each contributing to the whole of who we are becoming. This faith is not about forgetting what’s behind but about moving forward, knowing that God is who God has always been.

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” – 1 Corinthians 13:13

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Chara Donahue teaches Language Arts, holds an MSEd, and is a biblical counselor passionate about seeing people set free through God’s truths. She spent many years as an adjunct professor, freelance writing, and speaking to women. She was the host of the podcast The Bible Never Said That and a regular contributor at iBelieve. Her words have appeared at Christianity Today, Crosswalk, (in)courage, and The Huffington Post.