Have you ever found yourself asking, God, where are you? Not because you no longer believe, but as a cry from your heart, not something you say out loud to others, but something that rises up inside of you in the silence, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the pain, when everything feels heavy and nothing feels clear. 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. 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. Hey, thank you for being here. Let's begin with prayer. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Heavenly Father, you see the hearts listening here today. You see the questions they carry, the silence they may feel, the distance they may be experiencing. You are aware of all of it. Come meet them here today. In their doubt, in their longing, in the places where they are searching for you. Let them encounter your presence. Allow your presence to steady them and bring them peace. Remind them that you are not far. Even when you feel distant, you are right here. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. This is one of the hardest parts of grief. Not just the loss, not just the emotions, but the question: where is God in all of this? Grief has a way of changing how we experience God. Even if your faith was strong before, even if prayer was part of your everyday life, there can be moments where everything feels different. We pray, but it feels quiet. You reach out for him, but don't feel anything in return. And that silence can be so confusing because it doesn't match what you expected. I've asked that question many times. God, where are you? Not from a place of unbelief, but from a place of pain. There were moments in my grief where I was praying and at the same time wondering if my prayers were even reaching him. Not because I didn't believe he existed, but because what I was walking through felt so heavy and so disorienting that I didn't understand where he was in it. Sometimes people expect grief to come with anger toward God. But sometimes it's something so much quieter and complicated than that. It's not anger, it's absence, a kind of silence that feels empty. And that can be just as difficult because it challenges what we thought we knew about how God shows up. This is where we have to separate something very important. What we feel and what is true, because our experience in grief is very real, but it is not always the full picture. The truth is, God does not leave us, not in the suffering, not in the confusion, not in the silence, even when our emotions tell us otherwise. And this is where we look to the cross, because Jesus Himself, in the middle of his suffering, cried out, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? And that moment matters because it reveals something so incredibly important. Feeling abandoned is not the same as being abandoned. And even Jesus entered into that experience. God is not observing your suffering from far away. He entered into it. He understands grief. He understands loss. And that means your pain is not a place where God is absent. It is a place where He is present, even if you don't feel it. And I think this is where a lot of the struggle comes in. Because we don't just want God to be present. We want to be able to recognize Him. We want to feel peace. We want clarity. We want reassurance that things are going to be okay. And when that doesn't come, it's easy to assume that He isn't there. But something that I have learned is that God doesn't always show up in the way we expect. There were several moments in my life that felt completely unclear while I was in them. Specifically when losing my son and losing my husband, where I kept waiting for this overwhelming sense of peace. Something that would just settle everything. And it didn't come like that. What came instead was just enough strength for the next step. Just enough grace to get through the day. And just enough clarity to make the next necessary decision. And I didn't recognize it at the time because it didn't look the way I thought it would. But that was God. Now I can look back and begin to see where God had been present. This present wasn't always in the big moments. It was often in the ordinary, not always obvious, but there in small ways. It was there in the people who showed up, in a conversation that I needed to hear, in someone checking in on me at the right time. A hug from one of my children, an unexpected invitation to join something. And sometimes a brief moment of peace that didn't last long, but was definitely real. Even in the ability to keep going when I didn't think I could take one more step. And I think sometimes we miss where God is because we're looking for something bigger. But He is often right there in the small things that are holding us together. There's a passage in Scripture that I have mentioned before. And I used to hear that scripture and think it meant I would feel his presence or his closeness. But grief changed how I understood that. Because there were times I didn't feel close to God at all. Times where I thought he was punishing me for my past faults. And yet he was still close to me, not judging me, not punishing me, but holding me and waiting for me. Not always in a way that I could feel, but in a way that was real. And sometimes that closeness looks like being carried through it instead of having it taken away. Faith and grief doesn't always look strong. It doesn't always feel confident. Sometimes it looks like this. God, I don't understand this. God, I don't feel you. God, I don't know where you are. And despite all of that, you still choose to keep speaking to him anyway. That is faith. One of the most important things that I learned was to stay connected to God even when I didn't feel connected. Showing up to Mass, even if I had to go to a different church where no one knew me, receiving the Eucharist and sitting in prayer, even when all I felt was silence. Not because I felt something every time, but because in my heart I knew he was there. And sometimes it takes a while for our feelings to catch up. If God feels distant to you right now, I want you to try this. Set aside five minutes, just five. No pressure, no expectations. Just sit quietly and say, God, I don't feel you right now, but I am here. That's it. And then stay there for five minutes, even if nothing changes. Because prayer is not always about what we feel, it's about showing up. Something that I have heard said several times is that prayer doesn't change the situation, it changes you from the inside out. If God feels silent right now, it doesn't mean he's absent. Silence is not the same as distance. Sometimes silence is where something deeper is happening, even if we don't understand it yet. And I know that can be hard because we want answers, we want clarity, but sometimes what we are given instead is the opportunity to trust him in a way we never had to before. Now I want you to hear this with open ears and an open heart. He has not left you. Even in silence, he is present. Even in confusion, he is near. Even in pain, he is with you. And even if you don't see it yet, he is still at work. In next week's episode, I'm going to share one of the deepest grief experiences of my life. A loss that shaped me in ways that I never expected, and changed how I understood both grief and God's presence within it. Thank you so much for being here. If this episode spoke to your heart, I invite you to subscribe, leave a review so others can find this podcast, share it with someone who may need it, and come back next week. Remember, Christ is near. You are not alone.