The River of Change

Who I Was, Who I Am Becoming

Grief doesn't just shatter your heart; it rearranges your entire being. It changes the way you think, the way you love, and the way you see the world and yourself. It's been five years since I lost my son Kevin, and the woman I was before that day no longer exists.

The change is emotional and spiritual; it's physical, cellular, and embodied. I carry it in my breath, how I move through time, and how I gently love others now. Viktor E. Frankl said that when we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.

Flowing With the River of Change

Life brings change, the kind we long for and the kind we dread. Loss, trauma, illness, and even joyful milestones can shake us to our core, disrupting our sense of identity and safety. Yet within those moments also lies the potential for deep growth, sometimes subtle, sometimes soul-shaking.

When Kevin died, my grief was so heavy that surviving each moment felt like a victory. I had to relearn how to breathe, speak, and live in a world that no longer looked or felt the same. It was like becoming a child again, experiencing everything through new, unfamiliar eyes.

Yet, change, in its quiet way, began to do what it always does: keep moving. It kept whispering. Come with me. Initially, it didn't offer comfort; it only presented reality. But within that, I discovered something else: resilience. It's a testament to the human spirit, a beacon of hope in the darkest of times.

We Can't Stop Change

Change is not something we can escape, bargain with, or wish away. It flows like a river, ceaselessly, whether we're prepared or not. As I sit here in Punta Cana, observing the ocean's ebb and flow, I realize that change is a constant. Some may seem to be in yachts, speed boats, or others in rowboats, but in grief, we are all in the same water. Loss humbles us. It unites us. Loss and grief level the playing field.

One of the most brutal truths I've had to face is this: I am not in control.

I once believed that love, faith, and support could act as shields for those I care about. The moment I had to let go of that belief was painful, and it nearly broke me. However, in that difficult breaking, I found a new sense of openness and growth. I now see that trying to hold onto old ways is like fighting against a current instead of letting the river of life carry me forward. It's an arduous journey, but it can lead to unexpected opportunities.

Becoming Someone New

Embracing change is not about giving up; it's about evolving and adapting. It's about allowing your identity to grow and reshape through the storms and the stillness. Today, I am not who I was before Kevin died. But I'm also not who I was in the first raw months of loss. I am someone in between. A soul still growing. A mother grieving. A woman slowly learning to live again. There is strength in that. There is beauty in that. And most of all, there is hope.

Embracing What We Cannot Change

Accepting the hard truths of life takes courage. But in acceptance, something sacred begins to grow: peace.

Peace doesn't mean forgetting or pretending everything is okay. It means making space in your heart for what it is without fighting or denying it. It means trusting that even in the darkest seasons, there is a path forward—a path toward healing, growth, and renewed purpose.

And remember, the river of change is constantly moving, carrying you toward new beginnings. You don't have to have it all figured out. You need to keep moving, one gentle step at a time. The following are five learning lessons after loss.

1. Everything Changes — Nothing Lasts Forever

Every ending is part of a cycle, and every beginning carries within it the seeds of its end. Relationships evolve and sometimes come to an end. The people we love may pass away. Seasons change. Everything around us shifts, whether we want it to or not.

Reflection:

After losing Kevin, I struggled to accept this truth. My heart fought the impermanence of life. Yet, I've learned to hold change gently over time, like a fragile leaf floating on a river. Instead of resisting, I try to go with the flow.

To everything there is a season and a time for every purpose under heaven.— Ecclesiastes 3:1

2. Things Don't Always Go According to Plan

Life has a way of surprising us, reminding us that no amount of preparation can shield us from the unexpected. While it's natural to feel frustrated when our plans fall apart, we have the strength to navigate the storms and calms of life together.

Reflection:

Grief showed me how little control I truly had over Kevin's death. The pain of unplanned loss forced me to learn flexibility and adjust my sails when the storm came.

The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps — Proverbs 16:9

3. Life Is Not Always Fair

Injustice, heartbreak, and unfairness are part of the human experience. I knew that nothing would ever change the brutal reality that Kevin died, so learning to embrace the new flow of my life, as I did not want to stay trapped in pain and loneliness.

Reflection:

I wrestled with the unfairness of losing Kevin. It felt like a cruel, senseless wound. But holding on to bitterness only chained me to pain. Slowly, I found freedom in releasing resentment and seeking peace.

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good — Romans 12:21

4. Pain Is Part of Life

Pain and suffering are inevitable. They are not punishments or signs of failure. Sometimes, they become the soil on which personal growth and transformation take root.

Reflection:

Pain taught me things joy never could—about compassion, humility, and strength. I didn't choose this path, but I've tried to walk it with grace. I believe God walks with me through the darkest valleys, turning my pain into purpose.

We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope — Romans 5:3-4

5. Some People Are Not Loving and Loyal All the Time

We are profoundly social beings, yet human relationships are imperfect. People will sometimes disappoint, betray, or abandon us.

Reflection:

After Kevin's death, I faced loneliness in ways I never expected. Some relationships grew distant, and others deepened. The fear of abandonment was real. But I learned that running from that fear only made it worse. Facing it helped me grow resilience and open my heart anew to change.

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those crushed in spirit — Psalm 34:18

Final Thought

Wherever you are in your river of change, know this: You are not alone. There is still beauty ahead. There is still hope. Keep going. You can't go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending — C.S. Lewis.

Have you experienced your own “river of change” after a loss or life-altering event? Share your reflections in the comments. I’d love to hear from you and hold space for your story.