When Our Hearts are Heavy

So, what’s on my mind?

This past weekend was a heavy one. As many of you know, we lost one of the matriarchs of our church family, Rose Hulsey. Though she had lived many faithful years, her passing still came as a surprise to many of us. For generations she was part of the rhythm of this church, one of those steady presences who quietly helped shape who we are.

At the same time, our wider community experienced a heartbreaking tragedy with the loss of a teacher in a terrible accident involving students and what was meant to be a prank. It is hard to even put words around something like that. A moment that was supposed to be harmless instead brought unimaginable grief.

When things like this happen so close together, they remind us how fragile life can be. They also remind us that grief doesn’t follow a schedule. There isn’t a tidy timeline for when we are supposed to feel better, move on, or return to normal.

Sometimes our instinct is to rush past sorrow as quickly as possible. We look for the right words that will make everything feel resolved. But the truth is, Scripture rarely rushes grief. The Psalms are full of people sitting with their sorrow, asking questions, crying out to God, and trusting that God hears them in the middle of it. Jesus himself stood at the tomb of Lazarus and wept. Not because he lacked hope, but because love makes room for grief.

So, if this week feels heavy, that’s okay. If your heart aches for families who are grieving, that’s okay. If you don’t quite know what to say or how to pray, you’re not alone. Moments like these are reminders of why community matters so much. We carry one another through seasons like this. We pray when others struggle to find the words. We show up. We remember. We comfort. And we trust that God is near to the brokenhearted.

This week let’s hold the grieving in our prayers. Let’s be gentle with one another. And let’s remember that even in the heaviest moments, we do not walk through them alone.

May God hold you,
Rev Chris Hester