Four Biblical Truths for How Joy and Sorrow Can Live in the Same Room

I was nine years old when I realized all four of my grandparents were gone. I didn’t know how to explain grief then. I just knew there were people missing from my holidays and vacations that other families still enjoyed around the table.

Today, I’m grateful my wife’s parents live with us, and my children get something I never did—holidays with their grandparents at home. But I also see my in-laws learning to celebrate holidays while missing their own parents who passed years ago. That’s the strange thing about the holidays: joy and sorrow have to live in the same room.

The smell of peanut butter oatmeal cookies, the sound of Alan Jackson (or James Taylor) Christmas albums brings memories rushing back. ¹C. S. Lewis wrote of his wife’s death, “Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.” God doesn’t ask us to ignore that hurt. He meets us in the middle of it. Here are four truths from His Word to help us grieve with hope.

When Jesus stood at Lazarus’s tomb, John points out two words: “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). Jesus knew the resurrection was coming, but that didn’t make the present sorrow meaningless.

Believers can often feel pressure to move quickly through some stages of grief. We know God is sovereign. We believe in heaven and the resurrection. But grief is not weak faith or lack of faith. We grieve because we loved, and we hurt because someone mattered.

Even old losses can resurface during the holidays. My grandparents have been gone most of my life. I can’t remember much about my grandparents—maybe a doctor’s visit for cancer treatments. Yet watching my children make memories with theirs can make me ruminate on what I might’ve missed.

Grief doesn’t seem to be a linear emotion. You may laugh setting the dinner table but cry after the casserole smell conjures up a memory. The point is, it’s fine to acknowledge what’s missing. Jesus did. So can you.

Psalm 34:18 gives us one of Scripture’s clearest promises for grief: “The LORD is near the brokenhearted; he saves those crushed in spirit.” Sorrow often feels like isolation, even when the room is full of folks. But sorrow doesn’t separate us from God. He draws near to us instead.

¹C. S. Lewis also described grief as “a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me.” Life keeps moving—people shop, decorate, laugh, travel, and make plans—while your own world can feel strangely stagnant and numb.

Scripture gives us permission to take that sorrow to God. The Psalms lament. Jeremiah speaks about sorrow, tears, and loss. Biblical sorrow is not weak faith or some lesser faith. It is faith turning toward God with the pain we actually carry.

So take this holiday (or today) and tell Him what you miss. Tell Him what hurts. Tell Him what you wish were different. The God who came near to us in Christ is still near to the brokenhearted and near to you.

Grief asks difficult questions:

• Why did this happen?

• Why now?

• Why didn’t God stop it?

Some questions grow quieter with time. Others linger.

Scripture doesn’t promise answers to every question. It gives us something more: God Himself. Life and death aren’t really about us. Everything is about Him. If we forget this, we’ll forget how to grieve, and ultimately, how to live.

Paul writes that “what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Cor. 4:17-18). He was not minimizing suffering. He was pointing to a larger story. We must trust God because, especially during the holidays, families will change and people who once filled the room become the people whose stories we tell.

You may never understand everything about your loss. But you don’t have to understand everything God is doing to trust who God is. His character, goodness, sovereignty, and promises have not changed.

Holidays have a way of making loss feel closer. Paul reminds us in 1 Thessalonians 4 that believers still grieve, but not “like the rest, who have no hope” (v. 13). Our hope rests in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. This should make your next holiday especially meaningful. You can look around the room, be grateful for the people who are there, and still feel the absence of those who are not.

Revelation 21:4 promises a better forever—a day when death, sorrow, crying, and pain will be no more.

Do not miss the people around the table.

When I look around our table now, I see what nine-year-old me couldn’t. My children are making memories with their grandparents, while my in-laws carry memories of parents who are no longer here.

The holidays hold joy and sorrow alive in the same room.

³John Piper writes, “Occasionally, weep deeply over the life that you hoped would be. Grieve the losses. Feel the pain. Then wash your face, trust God, and embrace the life that he's given you.”

That’s worth remembering the next time you feel sorrow. Yes, grieve what was lost. Thank God for what was. But don’t miss the people He’s placed around your table now.

Christ came. Christ died. Christ rose. Christ will come again. And one day there will be no more sorrow, no more pain, and no more parting.

What a day that will be. Until then, we grieve with hope.