Rising From Grief: A Journey of Transformation
- Pamela D. Marshall
- May 14
- 4 min read
When Performance Becomes Personal: The Weight of Grief
As I prepared for the second half of the show, I knew I was stepping into grief. Not just performing it, but entering it.
There is a moment in the story where I speak about sitting beside my daughter's bed while she is in a coma. Waiting. Watching. Listening to the rhythm of machines keeping her alive.
And then the moment comes when those machines are turned off.
We never see Shelby die on stage. But we feel it.
Every night, I had to walk myself into that space, a place where a mother faces the unthinkable and somehow finds the strength to keep breathing.
But something unexpected happened.
It wasn't just acting. It was convergence.
When Art Meets Reality in Rising From Grief
Because I am a mother.
I know what it feels like to love a child who is in a place I cannot reach.
My son is still alive, but there are moments when the systems that hold him feel just as final, just as out of reach.
A mother's heart does not measure distance in miles or circumstances. It only knows: this is my child, and I cannot get to him.
That kind of love, that kind of helplessness, has a weight to it.
A quiet weight. A constant one.
In the middle of carrying that, I realized something else.
Grief is not only about what we lose. Sometimes, it is about what we need and do not receive.
The Silent Weight
There are moments in life when you don't need words. You don't need solutions. You just need to be held.
When that doesn't happen, the silence can feel just as heavy as the sorrow.
I found myself sitting with a question: How do you rise when life keeps placing stones in front of your becoming?
What I am learning, slowly and honestly, is that resurrection is not a moment. It is a decision.
A decision to rise, even when the stone has not yet been rolled away.
This is the truth about rising from grief that nobody tells you: you don't wait for the stone to move. You choose to rise while it's still there.
The Garden Where Rising From Grief Begins
Because before the stone, there was a garden.
A place of deep sorrow. A place of honest prayer. A place where even Jesus said, "If it be possible, let this cup pass from me."
Gethsemane is the place where we tell the truth about what hurts. Not with performance. Not with perfection. But with surrender.
Maybe rising does not begin at the tomb. Maybe it begins in the garden, when we finally allow ourselves to say:
This is heavy. This hurts. I cannot carry this alone.
What Rising From Grief Looks Like in Real Life
I am still learning how to rise.
Not in big, triumphant moments, but in quiet decisions.
To keep loving my son. To keep showing up fully on stage and in life. To give my all, even when I am not positioned the way I expected to be. To choose purpose, even when presence is not returned the way I hoped.
To trust that even when I feel alone, God meets me in the garden before He ever calls me out of the grave.
Rising from grief is not about denying the pain. It's not about pretending the stone isn't there. It's about choosing to stand, to breathe, to move forward even when the weight is still pressing down.
Resurrection does not erase the weight of the stone.
It reminds us the stone does not get the final say.
And that is what I want you to know if you are in your own garden right now:
You do not have to wait for the stone to be rolled away to begin rising.
Rising from grief begins the moment you:
Tell the truth about what hurts
Allow yourself to feel the full weight without shame
Reach out instead of shutting down
Choose to keep breathing when everything in you wants to stop
Believe that God meets you in the garden, not just at the tomb
Embracing Your Own Journey
Maybe you're sitting with your own impossible weight right now.
Maybe it's a child you cannot reach. Maybe it's a dream that died. Maybe it's a relationship that shattered. Maybe it's a loss so profound you don't even have words for it.
If that's you, I want you to hear this:
You are not alone in the garden.
The garden is where honest grief lives. It's where we stop performing and start surrendering. It's where we tell God the truth: "This is too heavy. I need You."
Rising from grief doesn't mean the pain goes away. It means you choose to stand, even with the stone still in front of you.
This Week's Practice: Rising From Grief Through Breath
Just as Tadasana (Mountain Pose) teaches us to stand strong even when we feel unsteady, the practice of rising from grief requires us to be present with our pain while choosing to keep breathing.
This week, practice the Garden Prayer:
Find a quiet space where you can sit without interruption
Place your hand on your heart and feel it beating
Tell the truth out loud: "This is heavy. This hurts."
Breathe deeply for five counts in, hold for three, release for seven
Say this affirmation: "I am rising, even before the stone moves. God meets me here in the garden."
Because rising from grief is not about waiting for everything to be perfect. It's about choosing to stand, to breathe, to move forward one honest moment at a time.
Join the Conversation
Are you in your own garden right now? What does rising from grief look like for you? Share your story in the comments below. You never know who needs to hear that they're not alone.
Looking for more support on your journey through grief and healing?
For speaking engagements, workshops, or to bring the message of rising from grief and finding Peace to your organization, call 352-359-5760.
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