It’s her birthday today.

Who? You might ask.

There aren’t many who remember her anymore. The temporary hoping-to-adopt daughter we had for three months seems to have disappeared from everyone’s memory but mine.

It’s been 4 years and it feels like a lifetime has taken place. I still grieve her and the loss surrounding the messy year of 2022, but the grief has morphed and changed with time. I don’t believe in the saying “time heals all wounds.” However, maybe it does change them.

The “her” in question isn’t dead. At least, I pray she’s not. The last I heard about her whereabouts was August of 2025. I got a call from Greenville County saying they’d misplaced her – again – because they thought she was still in our home. “No,” I’d said. “I haven’t seen her since July of 2022. I last heard she’s with —-(retracted) in January of 2025. Why isn’t she there anymore? Is she OK?? Is she safe??” The words had tumbled out before I could think. The woman on the other end was quick to end the call after a quick reply of “I’m sure she’s fine.”

I’m probably supplying you more questions than answers with these sentences. Who am I talking about? What happened? Why are you bringing this up – again??

I think that is the saddest part of all: no one knows enough to actually ask anymore. No one checks in. No one but me even remembers it’s her birthday. I want so desperately to tell the whole story, but no one truly understands why or desires to know the details. I get it. It’s sad. It’s depressing. Most of us were taught to brush depression under a rug and move on. I was told “the best is yet to come, look for the silver lining, and think positive.”

We live in a world that’s complex. Each day seems to bring a new challenge. Each generation also seems to have a different way of either embracing or denying these challenges. What might’ve worked for one person or generation doesn’t hold true for the next person or family. It doesn’t mean the first group was wrong, but it doesn’t mean the second group is either. We all grieve differently. Yet, there’s so much we have in common too.

On this day – her eleventh birthday – I find myself thinking about others who must go through this spectrum of complicated losses. I know I’m not the only person to have a messy loss of a person, dream, idea, hope, and possible future. I know I can’t be the only one who was forced to grieve someone who isn’t even dead.

Whether through a move, divorce, disease, argument, job change, or other life-altering event, so many of us go through stages of life that change our circumstances and cause complicated “goodbye’s.” Most aren’t the cut and dry clean-cut ends. Maybe your situation would take a whole book to explain. Maybe you find yourself at a loss for words. Maybe you don’t feel entitled to your grief because it looks different from society’s definition of a tragedy. Maybe your circumstances are so complex that no one even knows to check in on you.

No matter what you’ve been going through, I want you to know that you’re truly not alone.

Jesus wept.

What? Why would I say that line? That came out of nowhere.

Actually, it didn’t. “Jesus wept” is the shortest verse in the Bible and thus it stands out as something unique and important. The context is that Jesus was standing with a grieving Mary (the sister of his friend Lazarus), after he’d just asked her where they’d laid Lazarus’ body. The people around Jesus saw him mourn and commented “see how He loved him!” They go on to question why he couldn’t keep his friend from dying yet he healed the blind.

I wonder if Jesus wanted to explain this complex situation to everyone around Him. He’d already stated that Lazarus was only sleeping and He was going to wake him up. He also said “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.”

Jesus knew Lazarus wasn’t actually dead by God’s definition. Yet, He still wept. The situation was complex, messy, and full of emotional people around him. Jesus knew it would end for God’s glory. He saw the proverbial silver lining. He spoke positively. Yet, He also didn’t hide the grief, hide His emotions, or stuff His troubles under a rub.

I love love love what Jesus says next to God, His Father: “Father, thank you for hearing me. You always hear me, but I said it out loud for the sake of all these people standing here, so that they will believe you sent me.”

Thank you for hearing me. You ALWAYS hear me.

Jesus wept. Then, He lifted His eyes to Heaven and thanked His Father for always hearing Him. God heard His grief, His groaning in the spirit, and His troubled heart. God heard. He listened. God then took action and raised Lazarus from the dead.

On this date 4 years later, I no longer get paralyzing grief or crippling depression. I feel almost “normal” most days now, miraculously. That doesn’t mean I don’t still have days like today where I feel a flood of sorrow come back as I pray. It’s not a sin to weep. However, I don’t wallow in it either. Time has passed and healing has come. I have peace because I know God is in control.

This is all glory to God. The God who hears me – who ALWAYS hears me even when it doesn’t feel like it. Even in the mess. Even in the weeping. Even when I groan deep in my spirit over a loss no one else seems to understand. I no longer push it under a rug. Instead, I weep and lift my eyes up to my Heavenly Father. I thank God for knowing what He’s doing even when I don’t.

No matter what complex reason you find yourself weeping, please know that you’re not alone. Even the creator of the universe took time to spill His emotions. Know that it’s ok. Also know that the same Creator hears you and will perform miracles. I’m reminding myself of this fact as I navigate the unknowns. I don’t know if the girl we had is still safe and ok, but God does. God knows and He always ALWAYS hears.

Have a blessed day, my friends!