Grief has no schedule. It does not ask for permission. It does not wait for the right time. It interrupts. It invades. It descends like a wave—sudden, intense, and overwhelming.
The first wave of grief can feel like drowning. Your footing is gone. Your breath is short. Everything you thought was steady now feels uncertain. The pain comes not just from what you lost, but from the life you must now re-learn without it. Whether it is the loss of a loved one, a relationship, a dream, a job, or even a version of yourself—grief crashes in, and everything changes.
But in the middle of the wave, there is a lifeline. There is a hand reaching through the waters of sorrow—the hand of God.
The Shock of the First Wave
When grief first strikes, it can feel surreal. The world keeps moving, but you are frozen. People greet you, but you can barely respond. You look the same, but inside you are in pieces.
This is the disorientation phase of grief. It’s when you forget where you put your keys, or lose track of time. You’re not lazy. You’re not weak. You’re grieving. You are carrying something heavy, and invisible burdens are still burdens.
Jesus understood this shock. When He heard of John the Baptist’s death, the Bible says: “He departed thence by ship into a desert place apart…” (Matthew 14:13 KJV). Even Jesus took space to process sorrow.
Let that comfort you: you are allowed to pause.
Grief Interrupts the Mind, the Body, and the Spirit
Grief is not just emotional—it is holistic.
Mentally, you may feel foggy, forgetful, or numb.
Physically, your body may ache, sleep may escape you, and your appetite may shift.
Spiritually, you may question everything you once believed.
This is not rebellion. This is wrestling. And wrestling with God is not the same as rejecting Him.
Job wrestled. David wept. Elijah collapsed under the weight of despair. Yet all were still deeply loved by God.
God is not intimidated by your interruption. He is present in your in-between. He is near in your not-yet. He is working, even when you feel broken.
The Power of Pausing with Purpose
In our fast-paced world, we are conditioned to keep going. But grief teaches us to pause—intentionally.
The Hebrew word Selah means to pause, to reflect, to lift up. In this second week, I invite you to take a Selah moment not as a delay, but as divine permission.
Don’t rush to explain your grief. Don’t try to fix it with shallow sayings or spiritual clichés. Just pause. Reflect. Let God speak in the stillness. Let Him carry what you cannot.
Interrupted—but Not Forsaken
One of the greatest fears in grief is being left behind—by time, by people, or by God. But Scripture reassures us:
“When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee…” (Isaiah 43:2 KJV)
You may be interrupted, but you are not forsaken. The waters may rise, but they will not consume you. Grief may interrupt, but it will not define your ending. You are passing through.
This is a season—not your sentence.
Three Anchors in the First Wave
1. God’s Presence is Constant
Even when you can’t feel Him, He is near. “The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart…” (Psalm 34:18 KJV)
2. His Word is a Compass
You may feel directionless, but His Word is your map. Let Scriptures be your light in the fog.
3. Your Tears Have Value
You are not falling apart. You are falling into the arms of a God who understands. He is catching every tear, “putting them into His bottle” (Psalm 56:8 KJV).
Selah Moment: Reflect, Rest, Reassure
This week, take time to recognize the interruption. Don’t deny it. Don’t dismiss it. Let your heart be honest.
Ask yourself:
What has grief interrupted in my life?
Where do I feel most lost?
Where do I need to feel God’s nearness right now?
Allow space for silence. Let tears be prayers. Let the presence of God wrap you like a weighted blanket for the soul. He is not rushing you forward. He is sitting with you now.
Scripture Meditation This Week:
“Be still, and know that I am God…” (Psalm 46:10 KJV)
“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5 KJV)
“He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.” (Isaiah 40:29 KJV)
Prayer for the Interrupted Heart:
Father, I thank You because I know You hear me. Let Your will be done.
Today I acknowledge the interruption. My life, my thoughts, my emotions—everything feels paused. I invite You into the stillness. Into the confusion. Into the disorientation.
You are the God who walks on waves, and I trust that You are walking with me now.
When I can’t speak, interpret my tears. When I can’t move, sit with me. When I don’t understand, remind me that You are still in control.
I surrender this wave of grief into Your hands, and I ask You to anchor me in Your peace. In Jesus’ Name. Amen.
Closing Reflection:
This week, don’t focus on doing—focus on being.
Be still. Be honest. Be present. And most of all, be open to healing that doesn’t happen all at once.
Healing is not a race. Grief is not weakness.
Let God interrupt the interruption with grace, with love, and with gentle strength.
Selah Moment with Dr. Althea Winifred
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