I have walked through the stages of grief. It has been slow going over rough and unfamiliar territory, stumbling over the truth of what is, stopping at times to desperately search for a way back to what was. The signs posted along the path remind me that what was is gone. There is no way back.

As I have journeyed through this valley, one that I didn't choose, I have thrown rocks, screamed out in rage against the darkness, pleaded with God for relief, wandered into caves of pity and despair, fallen asleep soaked in my own tears.

Now, I find myself afraid of walking out the other side. At times it has felt inescapable, but it truly is a valley, not a pit. There is light at the other end, and I am beginning to feel its warmth on my face. But I'm afraid.

Have you been here? Afraid to let yourself imagine a happy ending? Small moments of joy spill onto you from behind the clouds, but you tell yourself not to get too comfortable. The clouds will probably return.

On my grief journey, acceptance has been so illusive. I've bounced back and forth between anger, denial, and depression until I'm black and blue.

Acceptance has been a hard-fought battle.

Yet, surrendering to joy, allowing it full access to my heart scares me. The fear is real. After walking through pain and deep sadness for so long, my heart is hesitant to believe that joy wants to join me now on this journey. After all, the path is still littered with debris and rubble; it's still messy.

Maybe accepting joy is just as hard as accepting loss. After all, it's so risky to believe that good things await you when you know it can all be snatched away in an instant. You know because that's what happened.

Joy is risky.

Yet, as I stand here, so much darkness behind me and no way back to what was, my heart is learning to make peace with what is, and my soul is asking for freedom to dream of what could be.

Hope has been the word that God gave me from beginning of this terrible journey. It has been like finding a treasure buried within my soul, beautiful and lasting. I had long since memorized the "hope and a future" from Jeremiah 29:11, but I had never held this treasure of this hope in my hands until my hands had nothing left to hold.

I understand completely that we must hold the things we love in this life lightly. Yet, I also believe that when we find our hands empty, that God has new joy awaiting us. He didn't rob me of what was. He is the giver of life and He is my Father who gives good gifts. Like joy.

Joy and loss are both possibilities on our journey. Guarding against one because we fear the other is not truly living. The only way I can continue to move forward is trusting in the truth of who God says he is and whose he says I am. The only way to push fear aside is with the hope I have in Christ.

I believe his promises to me. I believe He is good. I believe that his love for me is fierce. I believe that he will waste none of my pain and will use it to make me stronger for the rest of my journey. And I believe that he is still writing my story, complete with beautiful chapters of joy.

If I can dare to accept joy into my life, so can you. By faith, you can choose to trust God and his goodness. There is no shortcut out of the grief; it is like walking through hell.

Yet, here I am still standing, and you can stand with me- held up by the grace and power of God! We can walk in the light of his love for us and with confidence in the promise that he will work it all together for our good.

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up, do you not perceive it? I am making a way int he wilderness and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:18-19

Weeping may last for the night, but a shout of joy comes in the morning! Psalm 30:5