Tears, Scripture, and Silence: A Daughter's Grief

With Father’s Day around the corner, this time of year stirs up so many emotions. For some, it’s a joyful celebration. For others, it’s a quiet ache. And for many, like me, it’s both. That mix of emotions is nothing new; it’s been my reality for the past seven years. My grief still shows up in the same way: tears of sadness because I miss you, Dad, and tears of joy because I was blessed with so many beautiful memories of you. I hold both close to my heart. And while I grieve, I also celebrate. I’m thankful for my husband, an incredible father to our four children, who continues to carry the legacy of love, strength, and faith in our home.

That’s why this Father’s Day, I’m sharing a piece of my heart. A glimpse into what it’s been like to grieve my father, the man who was so much more than “Dad.” I hope it brings comfort to someone else carrying both sorrow and celebration.

"When Your Spiritual Rock is Gone: Grieving My Father and Finding My Way"

There’s a kind of quiet that settles over your life when someone you love so deeply, someone who helped shape your soul, takes their final breath.

My father wasn’t just my dad. He was my spiritual rock, my steady voice of truth, the one who could always find the scripture I didn’t know I needed. He was a preacher, yes, but more than that, he lived what he preached. He was the kind of man whose faith was felt long before it was spoken. He made people feel seen, heard, and covered in prayer.

And now, he’s gone. The grief comes in waves. Some days, it’s the kind that knocks the air out of my lungs, like when I go to pick up the phone to ask for his advice or hear his voice in a line of scripture I wasn’t ready for. Other days, it’s a quiet ache, like background noise I’ve learned to carry while doing laundry or cheering at my kid’s game.

Losing More Than a Father

When I lost my dad, I didn’t just lose a parent. I lost my mentor. My pastor. My spiritual sounding board. The man who prayed over me before big life moments and reminded me of my worth when I forgot it myself. Without him, I’ve felt spiritually adrift, like the compass I trusted most is no longer pointing north.

And maybe you’ve felt this way, too. Maybe you’ve lost someone who was your safe place, the person who made God feel a little closer. Maybe you’ve wondered how to pray when the one who taught you how is no longer here to do it beside you.

My Sister and I singing with our dad.

Where Is God in the Grief?

I won’t pretend I have all the answers. Grief is not linear. It doesn’t follow rules or stick to a schedule. But I do know this: God is still here.

Even in the silence.Even in the brokenness.Even when I cry out and feel like I’m met with nothing but air. GOD IS STILL THERE.

I’ve learned to let my grief become a kind of prayer. When I can’t find the words, I offer the tears. When I can’t sit through a sermon, I sit in the presence of a God who knows sorrow intimately.

Legacy Doesn’t Die

What my father left behind didn’t leave with him. His voice still echoes in the way I read scripture. His wisdom lives on in the advice I give my kids. His faith is stitched into the way I walk through this life, even if I stumble more without him here.

Before he passed, my sister asked him a question that still rings in my heart:“What are we supposed to do when you’re gone?”

Without hesitation, he looked at us and said, “Mamitas, you’re going to turn to God and hold on tighter than you ever have before and never let go, because with God, there is peace.”

That moment wasn’t a goodbye; it was a baton pass. A call to keep clinging to the only One who never lets go. And I know he would want me to keep going, to keep trusting, keep serving, keep sharing the hope we both believed in.

Even now, I can hear him saying, “Mamita, stay faithful. God is still good.”

So that’s what I’m doing. One shaky step at a time. Not because it’s easy. But because love leaves a mark, and his left a map back to Jesus. And when the grief feels too heavy, I hold on to the promise from God that gives me strength: As believers, we will one day all be together again. There is coming a day when every tear will be wiped away, and the joy of reunion will replace the ache of goodbye.

Pastor Santiago Morales (My Dad)

To anyone walking through grief right now, especially grief that feels spiritual, please know you’re not alone. It’s okay to feel lost. It’s okay to miss them and miss who you were with them. But don’t give up. You’re not without a guide. Even now, God is near to the brokenhearted. Psalm 34:18 reminds us:

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

I’m clinging to that truth. And I pray, if you are too, that you’ll find comfort in the presence of God, the One who never leaves, even when everything else changes.

With grace through the grief,

💛 Raquel