When Joy and Grief Walk Together

How has 2026 been going so far?

A new year brings fresh insight, goals, perspective, and hope for what’s coming. (Cue the inspirational music.) And if I only showed you one set of pictures from this past month, you would see joy, laughter, memories being made, and maybe even—here’s that word—“perfection.” 

But that’s not the whole story.

If I were vulnerable enough to share a different set of pictures, you would see tears.

You would notice the way my forehead creases when anxiety takes up residence.

You would see sleepless nights—waking at 3:00 a.m., finally giving up on rest and deciding I may as well get up and spend the time in prayer. 

You would also see trauma.

A morning that began like any other, and in a split second, everything changed. A quick check on Cassidy’s morning progress led me to find her on the floor—shallow breathing, nonresponsive. Fear accompanied my prayers, and we were off to the emergency room before I had time to evaluate what was happening.

Cassidy is okay. We don’t know what caused the “episode,” as we’re calling it. Her specialists are involved, and she is going through more tests, more appointments, and once again we find ourselves living in the unknown.

We are also in the middle of college music auditions for our son. I caught myself picturing a future moment—one where we know where he’ll land, where a decision has been made. In that vision, it was the school I am hoping for. I said to God, “If that happens, I’ll feel okay.”

Woah.

Why would I only be okay if things unfold the way I prefer?
Why can’t I be okay now—here, in the middle of the unknown?

So far, both joy and grief have been my companions in 2026.

It’s not how I would have chosen to start the year, but I cling to hope while asking my anxious spirit to settle. 

Once again I’m learning that God is present, walking with me in the middle of the unknown. He is near when joy feels fragile and grief feels heavy. And he is still good, even when life feels anything but predictable.

I’m grateful for his patience as this seems to be a lesson I have to learn over and over again.

So if your year has started with both laughter and loss, hope and heartbreak, certainty and fear—maybe you’re not doing it wrong.

You’re living a real, faithful life. So, hold on to both sets of pictures. The moments of joy give hope that the grief will not last forever. 

And for today, that is enough.