If you are grieving the death of your child and you want to learn to live again, your in the right place. If your ready to take a step of courage, I’m here to teach you how.
Need First Steps?
Want To Listen To Music That Lifts You Up?
Learn Tools You Need Inside A Community That Gets You with Weekly Support from The Grief Mentor
Join me and other grieving moms for Monthly Grief Support
Join Me For A Free Workshop
Join me for weekly support in your inbox
How do I find hope again after child loss sits in the heart of every grieving mom and dad.
Sometimes hope itself feels like a betrayal.
It can feel like if you begin to look forward to tomorrow, or next week, or even something simple like a vacation, you are somehow leaving your child behind in yesterday.
That feeling is incredibly common in grief.
But friend, that voice is not telling you the truth.
That is the guilt of grief.
And that guilt can keep you paralyzed in the dark.
Today we’re going to talk about something different, we’re giving you permission to hope again.
Many grieving mothers struggle with the idea of hope.
Not because they don’t want hope.
But because hope can feel like moving forward without the child who is no longer walking beside them.
You may wonder:
If I begin to feel better, does that mean I’m leaving my child behind?
If I laugh again, am I forgetting?
If I start to imagine a future, does that mean my love has somehow faded?
Those questions often grow out of the guilt that grief brings with it.
But hope does not mean forgetting.
And it does not mean moving away from your child.
In everyday life, we often use the word hope casually.
We say things like:
I hope tomorrow is easier.
I hope the holidays aren’t too hard.
Is it okay to hope things get better soon?
But the hope Scripture speaks about is something much deeper.
Biblical hope is not a wish.
It is a certainty.
It is the deep assurance that God is holding your life even when your heart cannot understand what has happened.
The Anchor That Holds Your Soul
One of the most powerful descriptions of hope in Scripture comes from the book of Hebrews. It’s a verse the Holy Spirit led me to early in my grief journey when I needed to understand that I was being held even when I couldn’t feel it.
“This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary.”
— Hebrews 6:19 (NLT)
Friend, think about that image for a moment.
Our hope is not something fragile or uncertain. Scripture says it is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls.
An anchor does not remove the storm.
But it keeps the ship from drifting away.
And this anchor is not tied to circumstances.
It is not tied to your bank account, your health, or the life you thought you would be living.
Your hope is anchored behind the curtain, in God’s inner sanctuary — the very place where Jesus is.
That means your hope is fixed in a place that cannot be shaken.
And that is the kind of hope grieving parents need.
Not surface-level encouragement.
But something strong enough to hold the soul when everything else feels uncertain.
Sometimes grieving parents feel like hope means leaving their child behind.
But the opposite is actually true.
Hope is not moving away from your child.
Hope is reaching forward into the eternity that is already yours.
Your hope is anchored behind the curtain, in God’s inner sanctuary — And friend, that is also the place where your child is.
That truth changes the way we look at tomorrow.
Every sunrise is not simply another day without your child.
It is one day closer to the eternity you will share together.
Every sunset is not just the end of another difficult day.
It is one step closer to the reunion that God has already promised.
When we begin to see hope this way, something shifts inside our hearts.
Hope is no longer something that pulls us away from the love we carry for our child.
Instead, it becomes the anchor that holds us steady while we continue walking toward the eternity where that love never ends.
When grief is new and overwhelming, hope can feel impossible to find.
That is why it helps to start small.
Instead of looking for big moments of healing, begin by noticing small glimmers.
A kind message from a friend.
A moment of peace in nature.
A sunrise or sunset that reminds you God is still present.
These glimmers are small pieces of evidence that your story is not over.
They are reminders that God has not forgotten you.
Training Your Heart to See Hope Again
One way to begin practicing hope is through three simple steps.
First, notice the glimmer.
Pay attention to something small that brings even a tiny moment of peace.
Second, acknowledge it.
Thank God for that moment.
Speak it out loud.
Third, anchor it in truth.
Let that moment remind you of the goodness of God that still exists in your life.
Scripture gives us this promise:
“Yet I am confident I will see the Lord’s goodness while I am here in the land of the living.”
— Psalm 27:13 (NLT)
Even in grief, God’s goodness can still be found.
Hope does not erase your grief.
It does not replace the love you carry for your child.
And it certainly does not mean your heart is no longer broken.
Hope simply reminds you that your story is not finished.
Your anchor is secure.
It is tied to the One who holds both your future and your eternity.
And because of that, you have permission to hope again.
Listen to the full episode on The Grief Mentor Podcast.
If you’ve been wondering how to find hope again after child loss, this episode explores how grief can make hope feel impossible and how Scripture helps anchor our hearts in something stronger than despair.
🎧 Episode 265
How Do I Find Hope Again? Moving Past the Guilt of Child Loss — Part 4 of 4
If you feel stuck in despair or unsure how to move toward hope again, you don’t have to face that journey alone.In a 1:1 Grief Mentor Session, we create a compassionate space to talk about your grief and begin finding steady footing again.
👉 Book your session: Here
👉 Resources: Here
With care and prayer,
Teresa Davis


All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2026 teresa davis | Website Designed by Ale Merino