"The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps."
Proverbs 16:9 (ESV)
Many years ago, when I was younger and in better shape, I led week long backpacking trips into the Idaho backcountry with teenagers and college students. One trip I will never forget took me into Mirror Lake in the Seven Devils Mountains with 67 junior high students.
On my topographic map it looked like an easy two mile hike. We would hike in the first day, set up camp, and spend the rest of the week on day hikes. What could go wrong?
After a five hour bus ride, we signed in at the trailhead and set off with 67 very excited seventh, eighth, and ninth graders. About a quarter mile up, the trail simply disappeared.
It was late afternoon. Dark was coming. And behind me the questions started. "Are we lost? Why did we stop?"
Maybe that is where you are today. The trail you were walking with him just disappeared.
You never planned this trip. Nobody signs up for it. One day you knew the path, and the next day there was no path at all.
Your grief journey after losing your husband can feel like standing on that mountainside with night coming on. You have questions swirling. Why do I have to grieve like this? How long will it last? Why can't I remember things, or eat, or sleep, or finish a simple task? Will life ever feel normal again?
Then a song comes on in the grocery store, or you catch the smell of his aftershave, and you feel lost all over again.
Those are honest questions. You are not the only one asking them. I gathered some of the most common ones in 15 widow grief questions and honest answers.
Standing on that mountain, I had questions swirling too. I was starting to feel afraid, and the kids were getting restless. But I had one thing that changed everything. I had a map.
Any time you plan a backpacking trip, you start with a few questions. Where am I going? Who is going with me? How will I get there? What will I do along the way? Those same four questions can help you now. That is what I mean by starting with the end in mind.
Look again at the verse at the top. The word translated establishes is the Hebrew word kun. It means to make firm, to set up, to prepare. It is used of a house resting firmly on its pillars. You make the plan. God makes your footing firm.
01Where am I going
Where am I going? Picturing the end of the trail
Someone has probably told you, "Give it time. You'll feel better." They meant well. But time alone does not heal. It is what you do with the time that helps you heal.
So let's be honest about where this trail leads. It does not lead to "getting over" him. You will never get over loving your husband. The end of this trail is a place where you learn to carry your loss, where the sharpest pain softens, and where joy has room to come back in.
Some call it a new normal. I like to think of it as a life that still has him in it, in your memories and your stories and your heart, and that also has a future.
What the research shows
The National Institute on Aging reminds grieving spouses that "mourning takes time" and that it is common to have roller coaster emotions for a while. Feeling up one day and down the next does not mean you are doing it wrong. (National Institute on Aging)
Try this week
Finish this sentence on paper: "A year from now, I hope I can..." Keep it small and kind. Maybe "sleep through most nights" or "laugh at one of his old jokes without falling apart."
Keep reading: Somewhere in the middle: widow grief timeline
02Who is going
Who is going with me? You were never meant to hike alone
No wise backpacker heads into the backcountry alone. When the trail disappears, you want someone beside you.
Grief tends to pull us inward. You may not want to burden anyone. You may not have the energy to call. But grief counselors have long seen that people with steady support tend to cope better than people who carry it all by themselves. That is one reason I lead grief groups. Something happens when a widow sits in a room and hears another woman say, "Me too."
"For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up!"
Ecclesiastes 4:10 (ESV)
Your hiking party does not need to be big. Think of three kinds of companions. One person you can call on a bad night. One place where you are known, like a church, a grief group, or a circle of friends. And one guide who has walked this road and can help you read the map.
A free gift, if it would help
3 Secrets Every Widow Wishes She Knew About Grief
Think of it as a small map for the road ahead, with three things I wish every widow knew at the start.
No cost. No pressure. Unsubscribe any time.
03How will I get there
How will I get there? Following the map when there is no trail
Back on that mountain, I looked at the map, got my bearings, and said, "Follow me." For the next several hours we picked our way along the mountainside. It was not a straight line. We went up, around, and sometimes back a little to find a better way.
Grief is like that too. Healing rarely moves in a straight line.
Some days you will lean into the loss. You will cry, look through photos, and tell the story of his last days one more time. Other days you will work on rebuilding. You will pay the bills, learn to fix the leaky faucet, and try a new routine. And some days you will simply need a break from both.
What grief counselors know
Researchers Margaret Stroebe and Henk Schut call this the Dual Process Model. They found that healthy grieving moves back and forth between facing the loss and rebuilding daily life, with times of rest in between. The back and forth is not failure. It is the path. (Utrecht University)
This is where Proverbs 16:9 comes back in. You get to make a plan. You do not have to wait for grief to simply happen to you. And as you take each small step, God is the One who makes your footing firm.
Try this week
Plan three small things. One time to grieve on purpose, like twenty minutes with his photos. One small rebuilding task. And one real rest, like a walk, a nap, or tea with a friend.
04Along the way
What will I do along the way? Packing for the hard places
A good backpacker packs rain gear before the storm, not during it. In grief, the storms often come without warning. A song. His truck in a parking lot that turns out to be someone else's. His handwriting on an old grocery list.
You cannot stop every wave. But you can decide ahead of time what you will do when one hits. Who will you call? Where can you step away? What will you say? Even something as simple as "I need a minute" can be your rain gear.
Plan ahead for the hard dates too. His birthday. Your anniversary. The holidays, which are coming soon. Choose ahead of time whether you want to keep an old tradition, change it, or rest from it this year.
And be patient with yourself. No two widows walk the exact same path. Put away the stopwatch. Your grief will take as long as it takes.
05The guide
The One who already knows the end
Here is something I have thought about many times since that day. When I told those kids "Follow me," I had never walked that route before. All I had was a map and a little faith.
Jesus also says, "Follow me." But He is not guessing. He has already walked through death and come out the other side. He knows every switchback on the trail you are on, and He knows exactly where it ends.
"Declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, 'My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose.'"
Isaiah 46:10 (ESV)
You don't have to earn His help or have it all figured out. He started with the end in mind long before you did. Paul put it this way: "And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ" (Philippians 1:6, ESV).
If you are not sure where you stand with God, that is okay. You don't need a finished map to take one step toward Him. If you'd like to know more, I wrote about what a personal relationship with Jesus really means. The door stays open.
Today's devotional: A Word Behind You, for the decisions you now make alone
Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah,
Pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but Thou art mighty;
Hold me with Thy powerful hand.
William Williams, 1745, translated by Peter Williams, 1771
Something to sit with this week
Make your own trail card
Take an index card and write the four trail questions on it. Where am I going? Who is going with me? How will I get there? What will I do along the way? Answer each one in a single line. It doesn't need to be perfect. A rough map is far better than no map. Keep the card by your bed or in your purse, and change it whenever you need to.
Whatever you believe, you're welcome to borrow this prayer.
Lord, I didn't choose this trail, and some days I can't see it at all. Thank You that You already know where it ends. Give me the courage to take the next small step, and make my footing firm. Amen.
Back on that mountain, after hours of picking our way along, we crested a hill. And there it was. Mirror Lake, still and shining, about thirty minutes before dark. Just enough time to set up camp. We didn't get there on the easy trail. We got there by a roundabout way I never would have chosen. You may not see the lake yet. But there is an end to this trail worth walking toward, and you don't have to find it alone.
Blessings, Pastor Howard
Know a widow who needs this today?
Sometimes the kindest thing is a quiet "I thought of you."
Which trail question feels hardest to answer right now?
Maybe it's "Where am I going?" or maybe it's "Who is going with me?" Tell me in the comments below. I read every comment, and your words might help another widow feel less alone.