Psalm 34:18
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”
There is a unique kind of heaviness that settles in the space between Thanksgiving and Christmas. The calendar tells us this is a season of gratitude, celebration, and togetherness, yet for many, it becomes a quiet stretch of endurance. When you have lost someone you love, or when distance, circumstances, or broken relationships keep you far from family, the holidays can magnify the ache. Empty chairs feel louder. Familiar traditions feel different. The joy around you can unintentionally remind you of what is missing.
Grief does not follow a festive schedule. It does not pause for holiday meals or wrap itself neatly in gratitude. Instead, it often rises in the still moments – late at night, during songs you once shared, or while scrolling past pictures of gatherings you are not part of. Being alone during this season can feel especially difficult. You may feel forgotten, overlooked, or unsure where you fit when everyone else seems surrounded by warmth and noise.
Psalm 34:18 speaks gently into that tender place. It does not rush your healing or minimize your pain. It simply reminds you that the Lord is near. Not distant. Not distracted. Not waiting for you to feel stronger or more joyful. He is near to the brokenhearted – the ones who feel worn down, tender, and tired of holding it together. He is close to those whose spirits feel crushed by loss, loneliness, or longing.
God’s nearness does not mean the grief disappears. The memories still come. The ache still lingers. But His presence means you are not carrying this weight alone. He sits with you in the quiet. He sees the tears you try to hide. He understands the exhaustion of pretending you are okay when you are not. When the world feels busy and loud, God remains steady and attentive, meeting you right where you are.
This verse reassures us that God’s heart moves toward us in our pain, not away from it. He draws close when our hearts feel fragile. He saves, not always by removing the sorrow, but by sustaining us through it. If this season feels especially heavy, let this truth settle gently within you: even in the loneliness, even in the grief, even in the waiting, the Lord is with you. You are not unseen. You are not forgotten. And you are not alone.
Dear Heavenly Father, thank You for being near when our heart feels heavy and our spirit feels worn.
I pray that You fill the quiet places with Your peace, strengthen our weary spirit, and hold us gently as You walk us through each day, reminding us that they we are never unseen or forgotten.
Welcome, I'm
Marisa
Claudine
Join me as I share with you my authentic and heart-warming conversations with Jesus and the percolating thoughts that bubble up from each talk I have with Him. I will share real life struggles, reflections on faith and the hope and comfort that is found in Jesus.
Love,
Marisa Claudine