By Sharon Wilson

“If you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible to you.” ~ Matthew 17:20
Loss has a way of stripping life down to its essentials. When my husband died, I felt as if the ground beneath me had shifted. What now? What next? Those questions became companions I didn’t ask for, yet they followed me everywhere.
This wasn’t my first loss. I’ve buried a sister, a child and both of my parents. Each one left me changed. From my sister Shelly, I learned that life continues moving even when our hearts want to freeze time. From my son Jordan, I learned that getting help is not weakness, but survival. From my father, I discovered that forgiveness can come even after death, through the Holy Spirit’s gentle gift of a dream. From my mother, I realized that love continues—even when I still reach for the phone, she finds me on familiar highways.
And now, from my husband Dave? I am still learning. Even after three years, his absence is too near, too raw. But slowly, one truth emerges: life is not meant only to be endured, but to be lived intentionally.
I wish I could tell you that grief always draws me into deep peace, that I see cardinals and feel his presence. The truth is, my faith often feels small. Yet Scripture promises that faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains. That small, stubborn seed has carried me when nothing else could.
In my quiet moments, I ask, “Lord, what are You teaching me here?” Again and again, the answer is simple—live. Live in such a way that honors those I’ve lost, live in such a way that glorifies God, live even when grief tempts me to sit down in the valley and never get up.
Like Frida Kahlo’s final painting, inscribed with the words Viva la vida—“Long live life”—I choose life, even in its fragility. Long live the messy, imperfect, mustard-seed faith kind of life that keeps walking toward God, one trembling step at a time.
Prayer:
Lord, plant in me the seed of faith that moves mountains. Remind me that even in loss, life is still Your gift. Help me live intentionally, faithfully, and with hope that never dies. Amen.
Call to Action:
Today, take a moment to notice the small “mustard seed” acts of faith in your own life. Thank God for them, and ask Him to grow them into courage for the next step forward.
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Beautiful insights about grief! It is a journey one is always traveling! Thank you for writing your own experiences!
Thank you
Dear Sharon – could you please explain what you mean by “through the Holy Spirit’s gentle gift of a dream”? My husband had a dream about my late son (Dominic 10.12.84-12.16.19) and I’m thinking that’s what you mean? My husband’s dream was one and a half years after my son died, and he’s never had one since, but it brought me comfort. Wondering if the same happy for you. Thank you! Mom of Dominic F35
Happened, not “happy”.
Dear Sharon,
I too, have lost my husband in the last 18 months. This article is so inspiring. Good news for my soul. Small things matter. It is okay to take time to heal and know that hole is always going to be with me but I must live on with it. Thank you.
My dream about my Dad was more than a dream. I woke from it feeling so much peace. I think God uses our dreams sometimes to let us know He is there. I don’t usually remember my dreams, so remembering this one so vividly made me certain is was more than a dream. Your husband’s dream may be the same. God works in lots of different ways. Did it bring him peace? Not all dreams are from God. I brought mine to a priest for some spiritual direction. Prayers for you, your husband and Dominic.