Child Loss & the Silent Saturday: When God Feels Absent (Part 4 of 5)
The space between the cross and the resurrection—the place grieving moms know too well
Child loss and the silent Saturday is a space in the story of Easter that means a lot to you and me as grieving moms.
The space between the cross and the resurrection.
The day where nothing changed.
Where what you hoped for didn’t happen…
and yet what you’re left holding feels just as heavy as it did the day before.
This is the part of the story we don’t rush toward.
This is the part that feels familiar.
Because if you’re honest, friend… this is where most of us are living.
And the question that sits here isn’t loud.
It’s quiet.
Heavy.
What do I do in the space where nothing makes sense?
When It Feels Like You’re Walking Away Instead of Toward Home
I remember the walk I took with Hunter this week.
Step after step after step…
the longer we walked, the more it wore on him.
His arthritis in his hips.
His head dropping closer to the ground.
And his pace slowing until every step felt like too much to bear.
And I could feel it in him.
That moment where the journey just feels too far to go.
And all he could see…
was that we were still walking away from home.
That wasn’t just a walk with our dog.
That was exactly the reality I was writing about for you today.
Because when the road feels this long…
and heaven feels this quiet…
it’s hard to believe you’re going anywhere at all.
It just feels like more steps.
More distance.
More weight.
But what Hunter couldn’t see…
was that we were about to turn the corner.
And everything was going to change.
The direction.
The view.
The way it felt.
We weren’t walking away from home.
We were walking toward it the entire time.
He just couldn’t see it yet.
And friend… this is the part of grief that breaks your heart open.
Because it doesn’t feel like you’re moving toward anything.
It feels like you’re just… walking.
Carrying what’s too heavy.
Trying to keep going.
And wondering if anything is ever going to shift.
When Your Heart Feels Too Tired to Keep Going
There’s a kind of exhaustion that settles in here.
Not the shock from the beginning.
Not the chaos.
This is different.
This is the weight of continuing.
The place where your head drops a little lower.
Where your steps slow down.
Where you wonder how much longer this road is going to stretch in front of you.
And no one around you really sees it.
They see you functioning.
Showing up.
Continuing.
But they don’t feel what it’s costing you to take the next step.
When Jesus Stepped Into This Same Space
Matthew 27:46 (NLT)
“At about three o’clock, Jesus called out with a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ which means ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’”
There is a moment in the Easter story where even Jesus felt the weight of separation.
Not because God had actually left Him.
But because that is what it felt like in the middle of the suffering.
That matters.
Because it means this space you’re sitting in…
this place where God feels quiet…
is not unfamiliar to Him.
He has stood here.
He has felt the weight of it.
When It Feels Like You’re Walking Away Instead of Toward Home
What Hunter couldn’t see…
was that every step he was taking was actually leading him back.
He just couldn’t recognize it.
All he could feel was how far we had already gone.
How tired he was.
How much it was costing him.
And I think that’s where grief meets us.
Because it doesn’t feel like you’re moving toward anything.
It feels like you’re just… walking.
Carrying the weight.
Trying to make it through the next step.
And wondering if anything is changing at all.
What Is Still True in This Silent Saturday
And then… we turned the corner.
And I watched it happen.
Hunter’s head lifted up.
His pace picked up.
There was a shift in him.
Not because he could see the house yet.
But because something in him recognized the path.
He knew.
This way leads home.
And everything in him responded to that.
He still had the same distance to cover.
He still had the same pain in his body.
Nothing about the walk itself had changed.
But now… he had more energy.
Because he knew where he was headed.
And friend, that’s what I need you to see in your grief.
Maybe nothing in your situation has changed yet.
You may not be able to see what’s ahead.
You may not feel any relief yet.
But that does not mean you are lost.
It means you’re in the middle.
And even here…
God is still writing your story.
He is lighting the steps in front of you—one at a time.
You don’t have to see the whole road.
You just need the next step.
The path the Holy Spirit is leading you on…
is not random.
It is not wasted.
It’s leading somewhere.
And it is leading you home.
And even if your head has been down…
even if your heart feels tired…
there will be a moment where something begins to shift.
Not because everything makes sense,
But because you begin to see the hand of God in your story.
And when that happens…
you’ll lift your head again.
You’ll take the next step.
And you’ll be walking toward home… toward the reunion you’ve been longing for.
🎧 Listen to the Full Episode
In this episode, Child Loss & the Silent Saturday: When God Feels Absent (Part 4 of 5: Easter Series), we sit in this middle space together.
Not to fix it.
Not to rush past it.
But to understand what it means to keep walking when everything in you feels tired.
If this is where your heart is today, this conversation will meet you right here.
Next Steps/You Don’t Have to Walk This Alone
✨ GRIEF MENTOR SESSIONS
If this space feels familiar…
if your heart is tired from carrying what doesn’t feel resolved…
you don’t have to stay here by yourself.
There is room to process this.
To speak it out loud.
To be supported in the middle—not just the beginning or the “better” days.
I’m here to walk with you through it.
👉 Book your session: Here
👉 Resources: Here
With care and prayer,
Teresa Davis
