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Have you ever looked at your life after loss and thought, I don't even recognize who I am anymore. Not just your circumstances, but you, the way you think, the way you respond, the way you move throughout your day. It can feel like something inside of you has shifted so deeply that even you feel unfamiliar to yourself. Welcome to the Catholic Grief Podcast. I'm Jenny Berba. After walking through profound loss, I discovered that grief and faith are not enemies. In this space, we speak openly about grieving.

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We bring our grief to the foot of the cross, anchor ourselves in Scripture and the sacraments, and gently rebuild with Christ at the center. If you are carrying sorrow, you are seen here. Let's walk this path together.

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Welcome back. I'm so glad you are here. Let's begin with a prayer. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Heavenly Father, you are the one who created us. You know who we are, even when we feel lost. You see each person listening, especially those who feel disconnected from themselves, those who are trying to understand who they are now in a life that looks different than they expected. Meet them here in the confusion, in the questions, in the searching. Remind them that their identity is not gone. It is known by you. You knit them in their mother's womb. And as we walk through this today, bring clarity, bring peace, and begin restoring what feels uncertain. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. Grief doesn't just change your life, it changes how you see yourself. And for many people, this is one of the most unsettling parts of loss. After loss, there's often a moment when we realize we are not the same person we were before. Not because you chose to change, but because something happened that reshaped you. I remember this so clearly. There were moments where I would look at my life and think, how did I get here? And not just in my circumstances, but in who I was becoming inside of them. Who I was becoming felt unfamiliar. There are roles in life that shape us. Wife, mother, the one who holds things together. And when loss comes, those roles can shift or disappear entirely. When I became a widow, that was one of the hardest parts to process. Not just losing my husband, but carrying a title that I never expected. Widow. That word alone felt heavy. I didn't feel like it fit me. I didn't feel like it was something that I was ready to carry. And yet it was now part of my reality. And at the same time, I was still a mother. I was still needed, still responsible for my children, still having to show up every day. And there's a tension there between who you were and who you are now being asked to become. Between what was and what is. There were moments where I didn't recognize myself. My reactions were different. What mattered to me had changed. Even the way I moved through my day felt different. Things that once felt important didn't feel important anymore. Things I had never thought about before suddenly mattered so deeply. That kind of internal shift can feel unsettling. Because it feels like you've lost more than just the person. You've lost a sense of yourself too. And questions tend to follow this feeling. Why don't I feel like myself? Will I ever go back to who I was? Who am I supposed to be now? If you've asked those questions, you are not alone. Those questions are part of the process. This is a layer of grief that people don't always talk about. Not just grieving the loss, but grieving who you were before it. The version of you that felt more certain, more stable, more familiar. I experienced that more than once. Each time loss entered my life, something shifted. And each time I had to let go of something. And this is where our faith becomes essential. Because while so much changes, there is something that does not change. Your identity as a child of God, that is something that you don't earn. It's not something you lose. It was given to you in your baptism, before your circumstances, before your roles, before your losses. And that means even now, God still knows you completely. He knit you in your mother's womb. In Second Corinthians chapter five, verse seventeen, Saint Paul reminds us, Whoever is in Christ is a new creation. The old things have passed away. Behold, new things have come. This doesn't mean you've been erased. This means God is at work even here, transforming you in a way that is still deeply you. But here's something that took me some time to understand. God is not asking you to go back to who you were, because that version of your life no longer exists in the same way. And that is so hard to accept. But what He is doing is gently leading you into who you are becoming. And over time, I began to see that God wasn't asking me to go backwards. He was leading me forward into something new. There were moments in my own journey where I wanted things to just go back to the way they were, to feel like myself again. But over time, I began to see God was not restoring my old life. He was rebuilding something new, something deeper, something more anchored in Him. And one of the ways I began to rediscover who I was was through the sacraments, through showing up at mass, even when I didn't feel like it, or when I didn't feel like myself. Not because everything suddenly made sense there, but because it gave me something solid to hold on to when everything else felt so uncertain. Receiving the Eucharist, especially when I felt empty, seeking spiritual direction, when I didn't know which way to go. Those moments grounded me. They reminded me that even when I felt lost, he was still right there by my side. If you are in this place, I want you to give yourself permission to not have this all figured out. You do not have to define who you are right now. You don't have to have a clear answer. You can take this one step at a time, trusting that even here, God is guiding you. I want you to take a few minutes today and either write or create something simple. Start by answering these questions. What feels different about me now? No judgment, just observation here. What feels unfamiliar or confusing? And what is still true about me? Not based on my roles, but on truth. You might write something like, I am still loved, I am still seen, I am still a child of God, and let that last one anchor everything else. If you love being creative, you can even draw this as three sections past, present, and truth. Not to fix anything, just to see it. There are saints who walked through this kind of identity shift too. Women and men who have lost, who have suffered, who have had to rediscover who they were in God. And one of the saints that comes to mind is Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton. She became a widow, and her entire life changed. And yet, through that loss, God led her into a deeper identity and a mission she never could have imagined before. Not because her pain disappeared, but because God worked within her pain. Grief changes us. There is no way around that. But it does not erase who you are. Even if you can't see it clearly right now, your identity is not lost. It is still there. And God is not finished with your story. Before we close, I want you to sit with this question. In the middle of all these changes, where does God feel to you right now? Does he feel close? Does he feel distant? Does he feel silent? In the next episode, we are going to talk about where God is in the middle of grief, especially when he feels distant. I will see you there. Thank you for being here. I hope you are finding value in this podcast. If this episode spoke to your heart, I invite you to subscribe, to write a review, to share this with someone else who may need it, and come back next week. Remember, Christ is near. You are not alone.