The past fourteen months have been filled with many tears and many pages. I have shared a lot of the books I've read (and recommend) this past year individually on my personal Facebook page but have been encouraged to condense these into one blog post. If you've followed my journey this year via Facebook much of the following will sound familiar. This photo is not an exhaustive compilation. This is most of the books I've read specific to grief in some way: whether or not I recommend them. If you see one you have questions about, please do not hesitate to ask. I will only give my thoughts on some of my favorites. Just because a book did not make this top fifteen list does not mean it wasn't worth the read. It simply means I'm a very indecisive person and was forced to limit the number of books I detailed here.
If you are considering gifting a grieving parent with a book let me, first, say "thank you." Secondly, I would strongly encourage you to pre-read or read alongside them anything you gift them. I will not insult you by explaining the reasoning behind this.
1. First and foremost, I will start with the one book that I cannot do without. I would be derelict to remain silent on the one book that stands above all the rest: the living Word of God. This book has sustained me on the most bereft of days, comforted me in the darkest nights, carried me around the edges of the precipice of despair, guided me on days my mind was numb and unable to take in much of anything, encouraged me in the deepest waters of sorrow, and reminded and revealed truth as my heart was shattered in a million pieces. This book is one giant compilation of lament with hope interwoven, thus giving the lamenter a voice. Of all the books I've read this year, they are but companions to this one and read in the light of this one. I started January 2024 in Job. I have mixed feelings about the Lord leading me there first, because who starts the year in Job? On the one hand, I see the kindness of God in preparing my heart for February. On the other hand, it's hard for me to go back and look at those journal pages because my innocence seems to mock me. I had no idea what was coming in the pages of February. I started Job last January being interrupted in the early morning hours by a three-year-old sweetheart. I started Job for the second time in early 2025 aching for that little girl to come crawling into my lap "interrupting" me as I read. Whatever you read, on or off the following list, don't neglect the power of this one. Over the past few years when I have sat down to read this book my prayer has been "Lord, teach me. Holy Spirit reveal to me what I need as I open these pages." He is faithful. I used to begrudgingly make my way through the Old Testament ignorant of the gem it is. Can I tell you it is in the pages of the books I often least expected where God taught me the most. Scripture is FULL of lament and God's faithfulness to his people through all kinds of griefs. There I found solidarity. Within the pages of the Bible I have wept, worshipped, rejoiced, repented, lamented, languished, and cried out in anger and confusion. He hears and he is here. He sees even when we cannot always see him. He is a God whose people have frequently forsaken him, yet never has he forsaken them. If there's ever an author I'm longing to "meet" face to face this is the one. Until that day (which I am promised) he meets me here.
LAMENT
2. Just Be Honest by Clint Watkins, has become one of my favorites. This is in part due to the fact the author is vulnerable and echoes many of my own journal or blog entries, has the most straightforward chapter on corporate lament I've come across, and in total the book is only 140 pages and thus not overwhelming. It is for everyone: both the suffering and those called to walk alongside. I would strongly encourage all those grieving or even curious about lament to pick this up. I would encourage every member of the body of Christ to give this a read. You won't regret it, and those weeping silently in your life and pews will be forever grateful.
3. Rejoicing In Lament: Wrestling with Incurable Cancer and Life in Christ by J. Todd Billings. "While we should not seek to suffer for its own sake, we need to take up our cross daily and not live in service to the affluent ideals of a consumer culture that has become expert at avoiding suffering. We need to join with the laments of Christ that declare that the suffering, injustice, and unbelief of our world are not the way things are supposed to be. We need to rediscover the cries of the suffering in the Psalms and ask for God to use those prayers to help us become close to sufferers in our midst, saying 'thy kingdom come'. As Carl Trueman notes about the loss of the psalms of lament in Christian worship, "By excluding the cries of loneliness, dispossession, and desolation from its worship, the church has effectively silenced and excluded the voices of those who are themselves lonely, dispossessed, and desolate, both inside and outside the church. by doing so it has implicitly endorsed the banal aspirations of consumerism." I cannot do this book justice in attempting to write a review; all I can do is urge you to read it. I'm only ashamed I've never read it before now- before experiencing the worst pain of my life. My lens of course would have been different, but I wonder if I might have been a better friend, sister, sojourner, and even more prepared for the ensuing pain that burst upon our lives February 25, 2024. I'm so exceedingly grateful for people such as this author (and others) who have ventured to write on the lost (but oh so needed) language of lament.
4. God's Light on Dark Clouds by Theodore Cuyler. "Extinguish the light of heaven that gleams in the distance, and this tunnel of trial would become a horrible tomb. I have sat today in Christ's school, while some of the scholars around me have been singing; but alas! Some others are sobbing and weeping. [the author] has lately been led through a very shadowy pathway of trial; but it has never been so dark that he could not see to read some precious promise that flowed like diamonds. The adversary tries hard to break our lamp and to steal our diamonds in those dark passageways of trial. We need good eyesight in such times of trouble, so as not to stumble off and lose sight of the Comforter, or of the bright light which shines at the end of the way." Another grieving parent passed this on to me, and I'm ever so thankful he did.
5. Dark Clouds Deep Mercy by Mark Vroegop. "I've seen mercy emerge within dark clouds as pain became a platform of praise, not a pit." This has been a prayer of mine since day one, albeit much less eloquently spoken. This book was the first book I had ever read on the subject of lament. I was desperate for such; thus, I believe this plays a part in why it was so meaningful to me. If you want to learn how to weep with those who weep, mourn with those who mourn, then lament. If you desire confirmation your crying, praying, and journaling through biblical lament is indeed constructive this book is an excellent resource. I'm sure most of us have at some point felt ill-equipped when it came to ministering to those whose lives have been forever changed by tragedy. I have often sadly erred on the side of silence. I shamefully admit there was a day the harsh cries of the lamenter would have made me uncomfortable. Those cries still do for many in the church. Mark Vroegop, pastor and grieving father, has done a superb job of teaching individuals and churches the much-needed discipline and gift of lament. This would make a great personal or corporate study. The chapters end with discussion questions in the event you work through with a group. Church, we could learn to walk so much closer and deeper within the sorrows one another bear if we learned and practiced true lament. This book is not specific to the loss of a child or loved one, although it was born out of the loss of an unborn child. "Lament allows us to hear the brokenness around us, weep with those who weep, and walk with them on the long road of sorrow." This book is a slower, deeper read. There is no fluff in the Dark Clouds. 6. There are two books on this list I have not completely finished: each for very specific reasons. Yet, I do not hesitate to recommend them. A Sacred Sorrow by Michael Card is one of them. I am slowly finishing this one because the book is divided into sections each suggested to be read along with particular books of the Bible such as Psalms, Jeremiah, and Lamentations. I've never been to seminary, but I confess when I read through these books on lament, I had to assume this was a biblical concept which must not be covered with much depth or heart within the curriculum. Because how else would we culturally explain why such a precious and necessary language has been neglected in our modern, western churches? The counter argument that perhaps it has been taught but intentionally abandoned is even more painful to consider, and I will not assume the worst. The limping lamenters among us are often silently crying for God's people to join in.
DEVOTIONAL STYLE
7. The Promises of God by The Daily Grace Co. February 2025 was hard, and when this book entered my list. I'm generally not much of a "devotional" person, but these 1–2-page reminders of God's promises were an excellent companion as I approached one year of living without my daughter. Someone gave me this almost a year prior, and I'm so grateful. I have clung to the promises of God this past year like never before, literally wrapping myself in a blanket forged through tears and prayer specifically over these promises amid the deepest pain. This little book makes a sweet gift, but also a good personal reminder of who God is, what he's done, and who we are before him.
8. Even in Darkness by Morgan Cheek. This is one devotional I've found written by a mother who lost two young daughters to a genetic condition. I immensely appreciated the raw vulnerability of Morgan in laying out her conversations with the Lord. This is an entirely appropriate gift (in my opinion) to share with someone early in their grief, and it does not have to be over the loss of a child. Sometimes I imagine one is just too weary and broken and without the cognitive function to know where to go in scripture, but we know we want and need the reassurances found within. This book is a great resource for those days. The author picks one verse to focus upon, and it is a journal style of her reflections, raw and painful as they are, through her conversations with the Lord. I think this would make an excellent resource for churches to keep on hand to give to grieving families. There are no pat answers, which I often found in some other books of this same genre. This book is scriptural and rooted in the hope we have even when hope seems dim or deferred.
9. Every Moment Holy: Volume II Death, Grief, and Hope by McKelvey and Bustard. This book! It was the first book given to me in our grief, and it was a lifeline. My sister-in-law texted me the liturgy written "for the morning of the funeral" the morning we prepared to celebrate Abigail's life and the goodness of God, while mourning her death. I knew in that moment I needed this book, because really, what does one even pray the morning they prepare to bury their child?
I know words aren't always necessary, and there has been plenty of moaning and groaning for the Spirit to take to the Lord on my behalf. Yet, there are times I long for words, need them so badly as I commune with the Lord. I was so grateful for the words, guidance, hope, lament, and frankness expressed in these pages. I wanted to pray the Lord's will, but in our darkest moments we often need gentle guidance. Words escaped me when I so desperately wanted them to present my case, my heart, my laments before the Lord. This book was a blessing. This is one worth keeping within reach for the tragic day a friend (or yourself) may need it. I have gifted this book too many times these past 14 months. It's appropriate for both early grief and I presume "late" grief. I suppose I feel I'm still speaking from early grief, but I have picked this book up for many of the "big dates" to read alone and with family on Abigail's birthday and gathering for family holidays. My children also requested to read from it on some of those days. This is not specific for child loss; it is appropriate for any loss (past or pending).
HEAVEN
10. Imagine Heaven by John Burke. I feel I should start with a "I'm generally very skeptical when people start writing about heaven or near-death experiences" warning as I always wonder if motives are pure. That being said, Burke reportedly worked very hard to sift out those who had something to gain and to include those who had much to lose. I obviously long for Heaven and Christ's return more deeply than ever before. As believers I am saddened we don't use our God given sanctified imaginations (within the bounds of scripture- which allows for quite a bit) more to talk and dream about the place we claim as our final and forever home with the One we claim to live for. Someone I respect very much shared with me a very personal story that dramatically helped me work through the last look in my daughter's eyes on this earth. And for this broken, tortured mommy's heart? I cannot express what this meant to me. So, I challenge you to read this with discernment and alongside scripture. Burke is an engineer by training prior to a rapid shift in his life. Those of use married to engineers will appreciate the meticulous process this particular group goes through prior to decision making and conclusion drawing. (Humor my broad generalization.) Use your imagination, because even that at its best is hampered by our broken world. The real thing will only be better.
PARENTING CHILDREN IN GRIEF
11. Guiding Your Child Through Grief by Mary Ann and James Emswiler. As parents, we are not the only ones grieving over an Abigail sized hole in our family. She has two brothers and a sister also grieving very much. It is SO hard navigating your own grief while simultaneously helping your other children grieve the loss of a precious sister. The overwhelming magnanimity of such a responsibility is sobering. We are so blessed our children already knew a familiar face at church who has been such an enormous help and blessing in counseling our children. But as their parents, what do we do? I did not have the bandwidth to read this right after Abigail went to Heaven, but I desperately knew I needed something as the days and weeks went by. This book is where I landed, and it reads very clinical. It is not faith based per se, but the majority of the book was solid and evidence based. Honestly, the more I read about children's grief the more it overwhelmed me. Children's brains are still developing and at each new developmental stage they are expected to grieve anew. This terrifies me. So, while I definitely recommend this book for parents, guardians, or those involved in the lives of grieving children I also acknowledge my children ultimately belong to the Lord. There is nothing like the unexpected death of your three-year-old to emphasize how little control you actually have on anything, but that doesn't mean I do nothing. I am tempted to be fearful how this trauma will affect their new faith, their tender hearts, their growing relational skills, etc, therefore, I will learn all I can in order to help them best. Ultimately, I know their Heavenly Father cares for and loves them so deeply, and just as I entrust them all four to his ultimate care, I entrust these three and their grief to him as well. Many grieving parents find it very difficult to concentrate on any sort of reading for a year or more after losing their child. If that's you, there is a smaller book by T. Huntley which is an excellent resource. I read it in a day after a friend mailed it to me; it hits the high points.
CHILD LOSS SOLIDARITY AND ENCOURAGEMENT
12. Seasons of Sorrow by Tim Challies. I read this book at months three through four without our sweet Abigail. I felt so connect to Tim Challies as a brother in sorrow. Perhaps this is because we both process through writing; perhaps because he also echoes the cries of my heart in this book. Having lost his college age son in 2020 he walks through a literal and figurative year of grief. This book is broken into short chapter, and while not an easy read from an emotional standpoint, it is very doable in the trenches of deep sorrow. Savor it. Take it slowly. Give this book to your grieving friend. Read it yourself to understand the life your friend or family member has been involuntarily called to. My heart has been burdened to steward our sorrow well, and I absolutely love that Tim specifically spoke to this. His faith and his pain pour forth from these pages in a complementary manner assuring the reader they are not crazy, nor does heartache or lament negate faith. A dear friend of mine read this book to gain insight into our journey and she texted regularly about what a (heavy) blessing it was to glean a glance into our pain. It spoke VOLUMES to me that she would intentionally choose to "bear my burden" as thoroughly as she knew how. I love that this book is written from a father's perspective. Daddies need books too. Daddies grieve too. Challies and his wife were also parenting two (albeit) older children through their grief while also learning how to grieve themselves. This book is still one of my go-to choices when people ask me about books for grieving parents. 13. Holding on to Hope by Nancy Guthrie was gifted to me and was one of the first books I read after Abigail passed away. The precious friend who gave me this book also took time to pre-read it in order to best ensure it was something this mama's heart needed as well as to better understand where my heart was as a mama missing her little girl. While our stories diverge, in that Nancy lost two infants due to a genetic condition, I felt so "seen" when reading her book: so much so I told a friend I was pretty sure she'd been reading my journal and listening to my prayers.
Admittedly, when I first started a book born through infant loss, I was skeptical because I wasn't sure how someone with advanced warning and suffering the loss of an infant would understand my specific grief, just as I wasn't sure I would understand hers. While we say, "all grief is different" (which is true in many ways) we must also acknowledge our heart's cries over the loss of a child at any age have many similarities. This book was a blessing to me. For me, there were many reminders of God's sovereignty and goodness as I read through these pages, something I wrestled (still do at times) to reconcile. Yet, Nancy also put forth the hard emotions and struggles all while clinging to hope. She was also the mother of another older sibling as her story unfolded. In a sense, she was living proof there was hope I would survive this, and perhaps even minister to others one day living a similar nightmare.
14. I Will Carry You by Angie Smith. Again, I wasn't sure how I would feel about a book when the path of pain was different than mine. My mind argues that one who had months of preparation for the loss of their newborn could not understand the sudden tearing of my three-year-old from my arms (nor I them). Perhaps that's the enemy trying to convince us that because someone's story isn't just like ours it cannot help us and further exacerbates the loneliness of grief; this is a lie. I had learned my lesson with Nancy's book, and I can tell you Angie's book also echoed the raw pain of my heart. I specifically remember being up late one sleepless night and getting to a chapter that spoke of things I too had thought but were (and still are) too painful to say. Things too grotesque, too blunt, too graphic to share with anyone. Things that haunt me. To know she was willing to put them on paper...well, the chapter was coming much slower than normal because I couldn't see through my tears-really ugly but cathartic tears. Both Nancy and Angie live (or did at one time) in close proximity to my hometown. I was sorely tempted to dig up any last known addresses and show up desperate for conversation. Rest assured, I did not. The Lord used this book (and the anonymous sender) to minister to me in precious ways. Suffering is a language that needs no interpreter.
15. Last, but most definitely NOT least, is my new and dear friend Karen Harmening's book, Sifted. This is the second book I have not yet completed but highly recommend. Without sounding too presumptuous, it seems as though Karen and I grieve and express ourselves similarly, yet I must acknowledge her surpassing (to my own) wisdom and maturity of faith. (In her humility she would likely be extremely mortified to read this.) Karen's book is a timeline of journal entries and blogs through her grief after losing her precious and beautiful Sarah in a church bus crash. I have intentionally limited myself these past 14 months to only reading her entries made at approximately the same time in her grief I find myself: i.e. if I came up on six months, I would read her entries up to that point but no further. It may sound weird, but I needed a friend to walk with- if only through pages. As it turns out, I didn't have to stalk Karen (as I would have Nancy and Angie), for the Lord sweetly arranged our meeting, and she is now a treasured friend. I learn so much from her, but I also am greatly encouraged to open the pages and realize what I've been feeling, praying, journaling, and battling the last months are normal and understood by at least one friend on this earth. That being said, every temperament is different; while ours may be similar in many ways those of other temperaments perhaps would benefit from reading through this in a shorter or even longer time. Karen's interweaving of TRUTH and raw vulnerability are refreshing and encouraging. She offers an earthly solidarity among the pages one craves in the loneliness of a child's death, while wholeheartedly pointing sufferers to the only ONE who truly knows our deepest pain and longings. I cannot speak highly enough about this book written by a grieving mother seeking (and in my opinion succeeding) to steward her grief well and glorify her savior in the process.
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