For many Christian moms who have experienced heartbreaking loss, there comes a quiet but heavy question that whispers in the dark: If I truly believed in God’s plan, why am I still so sad?

Grief, with all its weight and sorrow, can make us question ourselves, our strength, and even our faith. But here’s the truth: Grief is not a sign of weak faith. It is a sign of deep love.

The Lie That Grief and Faith Cannot Coexist

Somewhere along the way, many of us absorbed a harmful myth—that true believers should always be hopeful, composed, and joyful, no matter what life brings. That if we really trusted God, we wouldn’t be brokenhearted.

But this simply isn’t biblical.

Scripture is filled with faithful people who grieved deeply:

  • Jesus wept (John 11:35) at the tomb of His friend Lazarus—even though He knew He would raise him from the dead.

  • David, a man after God’s own heart, poured out his sorrow in the Psalms with raw, unfiltered honesty.

  • Job, called blameless and upright, tore his robe, shaved his head, and fell to the ground in anguish.

  • Even Paul, the apostle of unshakeable faith, wrote of being “burdened beyond our strength” and despairing of life itself (2 Corinthians 1:8).

These men were not scolded for their grief. They were not told to “get over it.” Their faith wasn’t in question. Rather, their lament became a sacred offering—proof that we can bring our sorrow directly to God.

Faith Doesn’t Cancel Out Pain

Grieving moms often carry a double burden: the pain of loss and the guilt of how they’re processing it. You may wonder if your tears betray your trust in God. But tears are not evidence of unbelief. They’re evidence of a heart that loves deeply, feels deeply, and longs for what was lost.

Faith does not mean we don’t ache. Faith means we trust God with our aching.

It means we hold onto hope even when it feels threadbare. It means we believe God is still good, even when life doesn’t feel good. It means we cry out to Him, not away from Him.

Grief Is Holy Ground

To grieve is to be human—and to invite God into that grief is to make it holy.

In your darkest moments, God is not standing at a distance with crossed arms waiting for you to “cheer up.” He is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18). He gathers every tear (Psalm 56:8). He walks with you, even when the valley is shadowed with death (Psalm 23:4).

There is no expiration date on grief. And there is no quota for tears. If you are still sad today—even months or years later—it doesn’t mean you’re stuck. It doesn’t mean you’re faithless. It means you’re healing, even if it doesn’t look or feel like it.

You Can Believe and Still Be Broken

If you’re a grieving mom reading this, hear this clearly: You can trust Jesus and still miss your child so deeply it hurts to breathe. You can sing “It Is Well With My Soul” with tears streaming down your face. You can walk through the valley with trembling steps and still be walking by faith.

Grief and belief are not enemies. They are companions on the journey.

So be gentle with yourself. You are not a bad Christian because you’re sad. You are a beloved daughter of God, held tenderly by the One who understands sorrow better than anyone.

A Final Word of Hope

There will be days when the ache softens, and others when it flares without warning. That’s okay. It doesn’t mean you’ve gone backward. It doesn’t mean you lack faith. It means you’re living through something that matters. And God is in it with you.

You don’t have to pretend to be okay. You don’t have to have all the answers. You just have to keep showing up—with your pain, your prayers, your doubts, your hope.

Because even in the midst of deep sadness, your faith is still very much alive.

And so is the love of God that holds you together—even when you feel like you’re falling apart.