Embrace the New Without Leaving The Love Behind
Written By: Dionna Lee
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!” (Isaiah 43:18-19)
There was a time when I thought looking back was the same as looking through a rearview mirror—it was necessary. After all, isn’t that what memories are? Just a simple look back to remind us of where we’ve been and the good times we’ve enjoyed with the people we’ve loved.
Harmless. Innocent. Deserved.
But what happens when those memories lock us in a place that holds us hostage, forever refusing to release us into the life we are supposed to have?
What happens when looking back is all we have left of the ones time has taken from us?
Are we justified in looking back? Are we free to stay? Or is it a trap?
In August 2025, I sat on the cold floor of my bedroom, seeking reprieve from the hot August sun shining through my window, uninvited. Tears streamed down my face as my thumb slid across the screen of my phone. Suddenly, the pictures came to life as an unexpected video played, as if it were happening right in front of me.
There was my brother, rocking in a suede-brown rocking chair, holding his fresh-to-earth nephew and singing his usual quirky, made-up song.
“I just love my uncle, I just love my uncle, I just love my uncle because he’s really cool,” he sang to the tune of “We Just Got a Letter” from Blue’s Clues.
My eyes closed and burned from the tears that had been falling for nearly an hour.
I miss his voice, I thought to myself.
It had been 14 months since I had last seen my big brother.
Fourteen months since I had heard his voice.
Fourteen months of days and nights riddled with grief and pain, with no end in sight.
The pain of grief, along with the finality of memories, haunted me day and night. I couldn’t understand why. My brother. He had been faithful to God. He was always so loving. His family needed him, and he shouldn’t have died.
The heaviness in my chest increased as my breathing became shallow and rapid. My heart pounded as the thought of him being gone wrapped itself around my throat like fingers intent on strangling the life out of me.
Finally, a burst of air escaped my lungs as my lips parted. But it wasn’t a breath meant to help me breathe. It was a violent, guttural scream that bellowed from my body in the most unnatural and uncontrollable way.
Dropping my phone to the ground, I doubled over, clutching my stomach.
“WHY, GOD?!” I cried out. “Why did you take him? You didn’t need him, GOD! He wasn’t ready!”
The inner pain of my heart poured through my open lips as I pleaded with God to take away my pain. Then, suddenly, it was as if a tiny spark of light broke through the darkness of grief in my heart.
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!”
The words of the Holy Spirit, as they so often do, broke through the outpouring agony of my heart. The tears that had been flowing without end began to cease. I opened my eyes and listened.
How could I forget the former things? I can’t leave them behind. I don’t want a new thing, Lord.
As I sat in the now-silent room, my ears ringing slightly from the headache that had built up while I cried, I struggled to process what I had just heard.
And though I didn’t hear an audible voice, I felt the Holy Spirit speaking to my heart: Death and grief are part of life, but they are not meant to become our whole life. Leaving grief behind, forgetting the former things, and looking for the new does not mean we have to leave those we love behind.
Not dwelling on the past doesn’t mean we forget where we came from or what we have been through. After all, each chapter of our lives holds lessons we can learn from. Each difficult season, heartache, and unexpected loss, no matter how big or small, has already been seen by our Heavenly Father. He knows how we can make it through.
I won’t lie to you and tell you that I am completely past my grief or that I have moved on from the deaths of my husband and brother. But I will tell you this: When I learned not to dwell on the past and instead focus on what the Lord is creating new in my life, I began to realize that I can honor those I have lost by living fully, carrying their love with me in my heart.
How do you do this?
Embrace the grief. Embrace the loss. Embrace the new.
This doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it. It means that when you feel that crashing wave of grief come over you like a flood, stop.
Breathe.
Feel.
Invite your Heavenly Father to join you. Ask Him to hold you. And let Him guide your steps as you take one more step forward into the new thing He is doing in your life.
Trust Him.
It is beautiful here.
Dionna Lee is a Christian writer, mother to many, grief “expert” by involuntary immersion, and founder of Outnumbered By Chaos, where she encourages women and families to navigate grief, pursue healing, grow in faith, and embrace grace-filled Christian parenting.
Through heartfelt storytelling, Scripture-rooted devotions, and honest conversations about life’s messiest seasons, Dionna reminds readers that even in the midst of chaos and loss, God is still at work. She is the author of the forthcoming book Joy Comes in the Mourning: When Loss Rewrites Your Story, God Rebuilds Your Heart, which explores the journey of grief, faith, and finding hope again.
