Tuesday, July 14, 2026: When you lose someone you love, 

Your life becomes strange

For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die … a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance. - Ecclesiastes 3:1,2,4

I would like to offer a suggestion: If you are not currently in a season of grief, tuck this poem away for a time when you are. That season comes to us all, and this is a poem that offers comforting words that can encourage us when it does. I find myself in such a season right now, and this poem comes to me as a true gift.

This poem is a blessing to me for several reasons. First, because it is honest. The ground beneath me does feel a little fragile right now. And I do find my grief ambushing me without warning (as it did when I was leading worship last Sunday). Second, because this poem reminds me that I can trust my sorrow – it knows, more than I do, when to pull the rope of grief. And finally, because this poem reminds me that there is healing that will eventually come. I might quibble with his line suggesting that there is a day “when the work of grief is done.” I don’t think that is quite true. But the work of grief does change, and perhaps even lessen, as the years pass. I have learned that from personal experience.

If this poem does find you in a season of grief, may these words offer you a little solace this day. 

For Grief | John O’Donohue

When you lose someone you love, 

Your life becomes strange, 

The ground beneath you gets fragile, 

Your thoughts make your eyes unsure; 

And some dead echo drags your voice down 

Where words have no confidence. 

Your heart has grown heavy with loss; 

And though this loss has wounded others too, 

No one knows what has been taken from you 

When the silence of absence deepens. 

Flickers of guilt kindle regret 

For all that was left unsaid or undone. 

There are days when you wake up happy; 

Again inside the fullness of life, 

Until the moment breaks 

And you are thrown back 

Onto the black tide of loss. 

Days when you have your heart back, 

You are able to function well 

Until in the middle of work or encounter, 

Suddenly with no warning, 

You are ambushed by grief. 

It becomes hard to trust yourself. 

All you can depend on now is that 

Sorrow will remain faithful to itself. 

More than you, it knows its way 

And will find the right time 

To pull and pull the rope of grief 

Until that coiled hill of tears 

Has reduced to its last drop. 

Gradually, you will learn acquaintance 

With the invisible form of your departed; 

And, when the work of grief is done, 

The wound of loss will heal 

And you will have learned 

To wean your eyes 

From that gap in the air 

And be able to enter the hearth 

In your soul where your loved one 

Has awaited your return 

All the time.

John O’Donohue from 

“To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings.”