Grief, Heavy Burdens, God, and Movement

Grief, Heavy Burdens, God, and Movement

Have you even wondered why bad things happen to good people?

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18

This verse was in my devotional reading this morning and has been sitting with me all day.

Yesterday’s mass shooting at the mall here in Baton Rouge has shaken our community. Someone very dear to me lost her daughter—an innocent, bright high school senior, just weeks away from graduation. A life just beginning, taken in an instant. There are no words that can make sense of that kind of loss. My heart aches for my friend in a way I can’t fully express.

And yet, this Psalm reminds me that God is not distant in moments like these. He is not removed or indifferent. He is close—especially now, especially to my friend, especially to anyone whose heart feels shattered. I picture Him sitting beside her in the quiet, in the shock, in the unbearable waves of grief.

The Psalm also tells us something harder to accept: even the righteous are not spared suffering. Faith doesn’t shield us from heartbreak. But it does promise that we will not carry it alone.

I keep thinking about Jesus during His Passion, carrying the cross. Even He, in His humanity, needed help. Simon of Cyrene stepped in and helped carry that weight. That moment has been echoing in my heart—because it reminds me that we, too, are meant to be supported in our suffering. We are not meant to be strong all by ourselves.

Right now, my friend is carrying something unimaginably heavy. And I believe—truly—that she is being held. By God. By angels. By the quiet, unseen presence of love that doesn’t leave, even in the darkest moments.

Still, questions come. They always do.

How does a good and loving God allow something like this?

I don’t have a tidy answer. I don’t think there is one that satisfies the heart in moments like this. What I do know is that trusting God’s will—especially when it feels incomprehensible—is one of the hardest things we are asked to do. It’s not something we can force. It’s something we slowly, painfully lean into, and only with His grace.

So today, I am not trying to understand everything. I am simply bringing my sorrow to Him.

And if you’re carrying grief too—whether fresh or long-held—I want to offer something gentle. Not as a solution, but as a small way to be with what you’re feeling.

A Simple Yoga Practice for Grief

Grief lives in the body as much as the heart. Sometimes we need a way to let it move.

Find a quiet space. Sit or lie down comfortably.

1. Begin with your breath.
Place one hand on your heart, one on your belly.
Inhale slowly through your nose.
Exhale through your mouth with a soft sigh.
Let the breath be natural, not forced.
If emotion rises, let it. Nothing needs to be held back here.

2. Gentle movement.
Try a simple child’s pose—knees bent, forehead resting down, arms reaching forward or resting by your sides.
Let your body curl inward. This is a posture of surrender, of being held.
Stay here for several breaths.

Then slowly come up and sit tall.
Roll your shoulders back. Open your chest slightly.
This is not about “fixing” anything—just creating space for the heart to breathe.

3. A quiet prayer or intention.
You might whisper:
“God, hold what I cannot carry.”
or
“Stay close to the brokenhearted.”

4. Rest.
Lie down if you can. Let your body be supported by the ground beneath you.
Imagine God’s presence surrounding you—steady, compassionate, near.

Stay as long as you need.

Today, I am praying for my friend.
For her daughter’s soul.
For our hurting community.
And even—for the hearts of those who caused this pain.

“Lord, have mercy.”

Some days, that is the only prayer we can offer. And somehow, it is enough.

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