I’ve heard many people say that 2025 was a hard year. I’m a card carrying member of that club, but not completely.

Holding Loss

In June, we lost my brother to a massive heart attack. After the initial blow, grief waits, emerging unexpectedly sometimes loud, at other times, a whisper.

Some seasons ask us to hold what sometimes feels impossible to carry. We all have them, and God gives us strength to get through them.

Holding Love

In the first week of December—between the two biggest holidays, a familiar breeding ground for grief—our granddaughter, Felix Winter, was born. Eight pounds, six ounces of pure sweetness and joy.

I stood behind my daughter, holding her as she brought her own daughter into the world—watching baby Felix emerge from the womb into her daddy’s loving arms.

I never imagined I would be invited into such a sacred moment. Love layered upon love saturated with joy and awe. One of those memories that will resurface even in my final moments, alongside the births of my own children.

And still, not long after, silent tears surprised me at a family dinner. This great joy did not erase grief. It simply pulled up a chair and sat beside it and gave me happiness and hope.

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.” —Ecclesiastes 3:1

Holding Respect

Grief and joy are not opposites that cancel one another. Grief comes in waves; joy comes in moments. Each deserves its own respect.

We grieve because we have lost something valuable, the impact of grief is a direct correlation of our love for that person. We must respect grief’s rightful place in our lives, yet we must hold the same respectful space for the joy God brings to lighten the load. He is faithful to be our comfort in sorrow. 

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort…” —2 Corinthians 1:3–4

Holding Space

Felix’s arrival did not fill the void my brother Randy left behind. She occupies her own precious space—one that overflows with the blessings of new life, brimming with possibilities and joyful beginnings. The blessing of Felix doesn’t overshadow grief, but allows it, sometimes simultaneously and infuses it with goodness.

We miss Randy and his impact lives on with us. We ask God to fill loss what only He can—with His presence, and His peace.

I can cradle my granddaughter while quietly grieving that my brother cannot do the same. And in that tension, I’ve been given a supernatural peace—a sense that I’m standing at a holy intersection of loss and love, sorrow and gratitude coupled with a brand new joy.

This is the work of the season: holding grief without despair, holding joy without guilt, and inviting God to be present in both.

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.Romans 8:26-28

Signing Off

As I sign off with this final Cup of Courage post of 2025, I offer you tidings of both comfort and joy. May 2026 be filled with good things and great blessings. Most of all, may God’s mighty presence guide and sustain us through every rise and fall.