Trusting God Through Loss and Letting Go of What Remains

Editor’s note – Grief rarely arrives with tidy theology attached. The author of this reflection writes from inside real, ongoing loss — a husband’s stroke, a stolen inheritance, a future that didn’t unfold as either of them hoped — and asks the questions many believers only whisper: does God’s promise of restoration actually apply to me, or was it written for someone else, in another time? We’re running this piece not because it resolves those questions neatly, but because it models an honest, unfinished wrestle with Scripture and trust that many readers will recognize in their own lives.

When Everything Is Lost

Have you ever lost everything you had? Was it easy to let go?

I know of many who lost everything they had, either through natural disasters, carelessness, or human actions such as arson or theft. I’ve seen many sifting through rubble, desperately searching for remnants of their past lives. They needed a photo, a child’s toy, or something else to cling to for comfort. This is especially true if the loss included the life of a loved one.

If you have lived long enough, I’m sure you are acquainted with loss.

God tells us not to dwell on the things of the past, as He is doing a new thing (Isaiah 43:18-19). There’s a good reason for this.

I have found that when I dwell on the past and recall what I have lost, I become despondent and depressed. When I remember the people involved who have wronged me, I feel bitter. These feelings are natural and normal, but this is not the way I want to live.

One Day at a Time

I have taught myself to live one day at a time. In fact, my mantra has become “one thing at a time, one step at a time.” This is how I get through each day.

There was a time when I felt that life had turned its back on me, but I have since realized that it’s not true. Life is challenging. Jesus didn’t sugarcoat this reality when He told us that in this life we will have troubles. Thankfully, He didn’t leave it at that, but encouraged us to take heart as He has overcome the world (John 16:33).

Paul’s life encourages me too. He had everything, but gladly sacrificed it all for the sake of following Jesus and proclaiming the Gospel. He changed from being a highly respected Pharisee to a persecuted prisoner who suffered stoning, beatings, shipwrecks, and even snakebites. He learned to be content with little or much (Philippians 4:11-13). He enjoyed blessings, but he didn’t allow his circumstances to determine his attitude or rob him of his joy.

Editor’s note – Paul’s contentment in Philippians 4 wasn’t a personality trait; it was learned the hard way, through actual loss. That distinction matters here — the author isn’t reaching for spiritual platitudes but describing a contentment forged the same way Paul’s was forged, one hard providence at a time.

Our Story of Loss

I have learned that God gave us all things to enjoy (1 Timothy 6:17), but He doesn’t want us to become attached to temporary earthly things. At least this applies to me and my life. I lost everything I owned. For a time, I lost hope, dreams, and ideals. My husband and I thought that we had a second chance at life and building a future together, but a debilitating stroke robbed us of this opportunity too. Every day has become a battle with survival, responsibilities, and exhaustion. There is little to celebrate when looking at everything we’ve lost. My husband lost everything due to misplaced trust in an unscrupulous family member. He has forgiven this person, but he struggles to let go. After losing his business, his house, and everything he worked for, he also lost his health, mobility, speech, and most recently the lives of beloved family members and friends.

Editor’s note – It would be easy to read an account like this and expect a tidy resolution by the next paragraph. The author doesn’t offer one, and we think that restraint is part of what makes this piece worth reading — faithfulness described honestly, without the loss being explained away.

God’s Faithfulness in the Wilderness

Yet, despite all of this, God has remained faithful. We haven’t lived extravagantly, but neither have we gone without necessities. We have never gone to bed hungry. We’ve always had a roof over our heads. Despite the challenges, I’m still strong and healthy enough to hold down a full-time job and take care of my husband. God gives us what we need. I strongly believe that if God doesn’t provide, we don’t need it. Sure, I’d love for God to restore everything I’ve lost, and I know my husband feels the same. We would dearly appreciate it if his health could be restored. We are believing that God will heal and restore him, but if He doesn’t, we trust that God has a special plan and purpose for everything He allows.

Wrestling with the Promises

Favorite verses like Joel 2:25, Romans 8:28, and Jeremiah 29:11, to name but a few, seem empty or void of meaning when compared to our daily reality. Did God really promise to restore the years that the locusts have eaten? Can He give me back 30 years of my life? Can He restore my youth? I’m sure He can, but does He want to? Were these promises meant for me, or did they apply to the Israelites only, and only in the time and circumstances they lived in then? Will He work all things for my good, or is it ultimately for His purpose? I know that I’m not living the future I had hoped for. Reality is much different from dreams or ideals. How are we to apply what we read in the Bible to our own lives?

Editor’s note – These are fair questions, and Scripture itself gives room for them — the Psalms are full of believers asking God the same thing. The promises in Joel, Romans, and Jeremiah were spoken first to specific people in specific circumstances, yet the church has long read them as revealing God’s character toward all His people, even when the shape of the fulfillment differs from what we picture.

Letting Go and Trusting God

I’ve learned to let go and trust God. He is the only constant and unchangeable reality in my life. Everything else is fleeting and subject to change. Life offers no guarantees. We don’t even know if we will see another sunrise. God taught us that this life is not our home (Hebrews 13:14). We are merely passing through on our way to eternity. As someone once said, “we are walking each other home.” We are meant to enjoy life, live carefree, and not fret or worry while anxiously trying to accumulate as many possessions as we can. Possessions neither bring happiness nor security. Our joy and our security are found in God alone.

God takes care of my needs, and if He doesn’t provide, I don’t need it. I may want it, but I don’t need it. This has become my philosophy in life.

I would be so grateful if my husband could be healed. I would love to have my own house again, but at the same time I wonder whether I’ll be able to maintain it and take care of it. I question whether my longings are realistic or whether I’m clinging to memories. I wonder about my motive. Do I want my own place because of the security it gives? Am I trying to find security in things, rather than in God?

I’m not getting younger. The years are marching on. Time passes relentlessly. I feel old age creeping up on me. I know I can’t do the things my younger self could do, but I’m not sure that I’m factoring in this knowledge when I think of my desires. How do I let go without letting go? How do I give up on desiring the things I once had without giving up on life itself? I grapple with this every day.

How do you cope with loss and the emotions that accompany it?

A Word from the Editor
Letting go of what we cannot keep while still trusting the God who allowed us to lose it is one of the hardest disciplines in the Christian life. Scripture never promises that every earthly loss will be reversed on this side of eternity, but it does promise that “he who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things” (Romans 8:32). Whatever else remains unresolved for this author and her husband, that promise still holds.

Editor Comment: The honesty of the closing questions, 'how do I let go without letting go,' captures something many believers feel but rarely say aloud, and it's paired well with the concrete picture of contentment drawn from Paul's own story of loss in prison rather than a borrowed platitude.

This article appeared on Medium and is reprinted with modifications and by permission.