Do Helpful Things: Look Back and Remember

Look Back and Remember: It Can Be A Gift

As we move into 2026, I would be remiss not to pause and notice what 2025 has brought into my life. Looking back and remembering has become one of the most helpful practices in my grief. It helps me notice the places where sorrow and grace have met along the way.

Scripture invites us into this kind of remembering: “I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old. I will ponder all your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds” (Psalm 77:11–12). Looking back is not about staying in the past. It is about recognizing the faithfulness of God who met us there.

Look Back Through Physical Reminders

Recently, a longtime friend shared videos from a preschool Christmas performance. The footage showed my son singing with enthusiasm, dancing with all the gusto he could muster, and smiling that smile that could stop me in my tracks.

Hearing his voice again and seeing his joy brought tears. There was grief, yes, but also gratitude. These physical reminders of time past are gifts. They anchor us to love that is still real, even when the person we love is no longer physically present.

Remember the Good in the Midst of the Hard

After my son died, I struggled with the idea that anything good could come from his passing. I did not want anything good to come of it. That felt too close to making his death acceptable, and it is not.

Over time, however, I began to notice clear beauty in the ashes of loss. A trusted friend helped me ask different questions: Who have you connected with that you never would have met if your son had not died?

As I named person after person, memories came with them. We shared stories. We exchanged tears. We experienced moments of understanding. I found myself smiling through the ache. God is faithful at bringing sweetness, even in the most impossible circumstances.

Remember With Laughter

As time passes, new friends enter my life who never knew my son. That brings a quiet ache. How do you introduce someone you love to a person who has never met them?

One recent conversation became a gift. A new friend, who also understands loss, simply said, “Tell me about him.” And so I did. Stories spilled out. I remembered his humor and his antics. Those moments now make me smile more easily than cry.

We laughed together. Remembering, especially when paired with laughter, continues to bring healing.

Remember Through Traditions

Many bereaved parents carry the fear that their child will be forgotten. We love telling stories about our children and what they are doing now. When someone is gone, there are no new stories to tell.

One way our church family remembers is through a simple tradition. Each year, around the anniversary of my son’s death, people wear flannel. They share photos and messages to say he is not forgotten. Some even tell me they are “wearing flannel in their heart.”

This year, our pastor explained the meaning behind this tradition as part of his announcements. Tears flowed. At the same time, I felt deeply seen and loved by a community that has walked this road with us for many years.

Look Back to Walk With Others in Grief

Losing a loved one during the holiday season has made me more aware of others who grieve during a time meant for celebration. It has helped me start conversations when I might otherwise hesitate.

There are no perfect words. Grief unfolds differently for each person. It does not follow a neat or predictable timeline.

Recently, a dear friend lost her husband after a three-year battle with cancer. I try to listen, checked in, and think about what might be helpful. My heart aches for her. I know, at least in part, what this road may hold. At the same time, it brings healing to show up for her in ways she once showed up for me.

When someone nearby experiences fresh loss, reaching out can be a gift. Listening matters. Asking questions helps. Presence speaks louder than solutions. Scripture reminds us that we comfort others with the comfort we have received (2 Corinthians 1:4). God does not waste anything, not even our pain.

Remember That You Are Not Alone

Everyone grieves differently. Early on, I shared with friends how much it meant when they remembered important dates. Birthdays and anniversaries still carry weight.

Over the years, friends have shown care in many ways. Some drop off baked goods. Others send flowers, texts, cards, or voicemails. A few call, even when I do not answer.

These gestures quietly live out the call to “rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn” (Romans 12:15). They say, We remember. You are not alone.

Looking back helps me see this clearly. Even in my darkest moments, I have not been abandoned. God has met me again and again in personal and meaningful ways. It is good and right to stop, remember, and give thanks.

Song for Remembrance: “Goodness of God”

Ben Fielding / Brian Johnson / Edward Martin Cash / Jason Ingram / Jenn Johnson

I love learning the story behind meaningful songs. Much of “Goodness of God” reflects the personal testimony of Jenn Johnson. The song did not come from a single dramatic moment. It grew out of her lived experience of God’s faithfulness over time.

Jenn has spoken openly about seasons of pain, disappointment, and hopes that were not met. She has shared about struggles related to mental health, identity, and long periods of waiting on God. Those seasons did not resolve quickly or neatly.

The song came from a simple but weighty question: “Can I still say God is good when life doesn’t look the way I hoped?”In that struggle, choosing to proclaim God’s faithfulness carries a life-changing message.

Excerpt

I love Your voice
You have led me through the fire
In darkest night You are close like no other
I’ve known You as a Father
I’ve known You as a Friend
And I have lived in the goodness of God

’Cause all my life You have been faithful
And all my life You have been so, so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God

Reflection Questions

1. As you look back on the past year, what beauty—however small—have you noticed in the midst of your grief?
2. Have you connected with someone through loss in a way that might not have happened otherwise? What did that connection offer you?
3. What is one intentional way you can practice remembering—through a story, a tradition, or a conversation—in the coming year?

Grief is not meant to be carried alone. If you find yourself longing for others who understand this road, consider seeking out a grief support group, trusted community, or counselor who can walk alongside you. Sometimes doing a helpful thing begins with allowing yourself to be helped.