Tullian Tchividjian Quotes

My heart is hurting so bad no one can make me believe this is real Father God I pray that you send clarity over this cause I just don't understand My heart hurts it's broken no one can convince me that this is real.... Prayer warriors please pray real hard for his only child, his daughter and family.

Grief does not end and love does not die and nothing fills its graven place. With grace, pain is transmuted into the gold of wisdom and compassion and the lesser coin of muted sadness and resignation; but something leaden of it remains, to become the kernel arond which more pain accretes (a black pearl): one pain becomes every other pain ... unless one strips away, one by one, the layers of pain to get to the heart of the pain - and this causes more pain, pain so intense as to feel like evisceration.

the pain of that first lost was still raw. You could deal with it, endure it, but never escape it.

There's a fine edge to new grief, it severs nerves, disconnects reality--there's mercy in a sharp blade. Only with time, as the edge wears, does the real ache begin.

People believe a man is in distress because his loved one dies in one day. But his real pain is less futile: it is that he finds out that sadness too does not last. Even pain has no meaning.

Every parent who loses a child finds a way to laugh again. The timbre begins to fade. The edge dulls. The hurt lessens. Every love is carved from loss. Mine was. Yours is. Your great-great-great-children's will be. But we learn to live with that love.

When someone dies, it is like when your house burns down; it isn't for years that you realize the full extent of your loss.

Writers write about what obsesses them. You draw those cards. I lost my mother when I was 14. My daughter died at the age of 6. I lost my faith as a Catholic. When I'm writing, the darkness is always there. I go where the pain is.

I never know what to tell them. I mean, there's nothing you can say to make a person stop hurting. Half the time, I just feel like telling them the truth. I'd say that for 3 months, you're going to feel worse than you've ever felt and you cope as best you can. And that after 6 months, the pain isn't so bad, but it still hurts more than you think it will. And even after years, you still find yourself thinking about the person you lost and get sad about it. And you still miss them all the time.

I lost my partner [Anselmo Feleppa] to HIV then it took about three years to grieve; then after that I lost my mother. I felt almost like I was cursed.

I grieve that grief can teach me nothing, nor carry me one step into real nature.

If a man does not die of a wound, then it heals in some fashion, and so it is with loss. From the sharp pain of immediate berevement, both the Prince and I passed into the gray days of numb bewilderment and waiting. So grief has always seemed to me, a time of waiting not for the hurt to pass, but to become accustomed to it.

I lost my brother when he was 30, and that was devastating for me. I don't know if I will ever get over it.

To touch a sore is to renew one's grief.

Some things you just don't get over.

We are all victims because of the circumstances, but I'm not sure what to say to any one who has lost a loved one. I know the feeling myself, and words just don't do much to ease the pain.

Grief changes shape, but it never ends.

I had to go on without my mother, even though I was suffering terribly, grieving her.

A piece of each of us died.

From losing my mom, I'll never be okay; I'll never be put together again.

I lost my husband, and it's a horrific thing to live through.

Grief is a world you walk through skinned, unshelled.

I know what it's like to lose.

A fundamental and unfortunate part of being alive is to suffer loss and to suffer grief.

Every widow wakes one morning, perhaps after years of pure and unwavering grieving, to realize she slept a good night's sleep, and will be able to eat breakfast, and doesn't hear her husband's ghost all the time, but only some of the time. Her grief is replaced with a useful sadness. Every parent who loses a child finds a way to laugh again. The timbre begins to fade. The edge dulls. The hurt lessens. Every love is carved from loss. Mine was. Yours is. Your great-great-great-grandchildren's will be. But we learn to live in that love.