Turning the Page: Love, Loss, and the Story God’s Still Writing
Guest Blog, written by Dionna Lee - Outnumbered by Chaos.
Endings Suck
I’ve always hated endings. Let me explain.. If you look at my somewhat excessive book collection, you will see a plethora of books from spiritual and personal growth, fiction, finance, bible studies, and even health and healing. Naturally, you might think, “wow, she must read so much”, and while that is true, it’s not the whole answer.
Thinking back to childhood, I often got in trouble for staying up late under my covers diving into my favorite book. I don’t know what it is but I love to read. I always have. The story, the plot, the education and knowledge, the smell of the pages, the sound of the binding when you first open a book, color choices - you name it, I love it. But, there’s one thing I have come to despise about reading…
The End.
Ugh. Just typing the words and feeling the finality of it. The end. I loathe endings.
So, instead of seeing a bunch of fully read books, if you look closely you’ll find the majority of them have markers or tabs, or maybe even writing, that simply stops two-thirds of the way through. Never to be touched again.
Weird? I know.
But, it aligns so well with my personality. The end of things has always terrified me.
As a young child, I remember snuggling with my mama on our brown and yellow plaid 70’s couch, staring out the window at the dark, starry night sky and thinking, “her heart could stop beating some day.”. A lump would form in my throat and my stomach flipped upside down, as tears began to roll down my cheeks, soaking my mothers shirt.
Death has never been something I was comfortable with. Just like the words “The End”.
I’ve never felt like anything - life included - should end.
That’s why, despite my husband’s diagnosis of Congestive Heart Failure, I never believed it would end in his death. Same with my brother. Both strong, confident, manly men - they could never die.
Yet they did. Both of them. When my husband passed away in 2022, my heart could not comprehend it. Most nights I would listen to my quiet house in the late hours of the night waiting to hear the sound of his boots walking down the hallway as they did every night before.
Then, when my brother passed in 2024 I felt the same way. I watched and waited at the morgue expecting him to sit up from his gurney and walk out as if they had made some grave mistake. No pun intended.
Yet they never did. Because for them, it was the end of their life on earth.
If you’ve ever lost someone, you know the pain of loss. The finality of it. The hurt and ache as your heart reaches out for them, only to receive nothing in return. It sucks.
For nearly 3 years, I was certain I would never move forward. My book ended with them. There was no hope for love, connection, or affection ever again. Just like my brother, no one could replace my husband.
And while this is still true. I’ve learned that my book is not over, it is simply time to turn the page and continue into the new chapter of life, love, and happiness. No matter how scary it may seem, there is more life to live, and you’re allowed to move forward. I am allowed to move forward.
The Fear of Beginning Again
It’s been so many years since I went on a first date. And even longer since I was willing to open my heart up to someone new.
When I met Ben, my heart was in recovery from being recently broken. And though I was terrified to be hurt, there was something about him that felt safe and familiar. I allowed myself to fall in love, and though rocky at times, the rest is history.
I was still in my twenties then, while now I am in my mid thirties and much wiser. Love felt so possible and fairy tales were real back then. People didn’t die, and love lasted forever.
Now, it feels dangerous. Love feels like a risk. What if I met the second man of my dreams and he dies too? What if he cheats? What if… What if… What if…
It’s scary!
Yet, possibility hit me straight in the forehead when I least expected it. A past love resurfaced in a way I never expected. And what I’ve realized is that as scary as love is, it can be worth it.
The Vulnerability of Love
As an avid reader and follower of Jesus, one of my favorite and most frequented books is the bible, naturally. And while not everyone has read the bible directly most are familiar with the story of our first parents: Adam and Eve.
Prior to the fall of humanity through sin, Adam and Eve walked the earth naked and unashamed. Not once did they question or even notice why they were uncovered. It was their natural state of being. Until sin entered the picture and changed everything…
“When the woman saw that the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eyes, and that it was desirable for obtaining wisdom, she took the fruit and ate it. She also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate it.
And the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked; so they sewed together fig leaves and made coverings for themselves.” (Genesis 3:6-7)
I kind of understand the feeling of Adam and Eve upon seeing that they were naked. Previously, they had been clothed in the righteousness of God, and though they could see each other, there was nothing shameful to hide.
Yet, as soon as their eyes were opened, shame, guilt, and vulnerability set in. They suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable, and open to being hurt.
In a way, that’s how it feels to open your heart to the possibility of love after loss. It feels vulnerable. Raw. Scary.
To know that - having had your heart broken beyond recognition and putting it back together with masking tape and tacky glue - you’re potentially handing over your heart to someone who could shatter it to pieces again, is terrifying. Yet, exhilarating.
The Sacrifice of Trust
The thing that I’ve come to realize is that you can’t have it both ways. You can’t hold onto your reconstructed heart like it’s glued to your hand, while handing it to someone at the same time. Ultimately, what will end up happening is you’ll accidentally crush it all over again.
So, what’s a girl to do?
Trust.
Proverbs 4:23 (NLT) says, “Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.”
But, here’s the difference. Guarding your heart does not mean clutching on to it like you would your purse at 2 a.m., walking down a dark alley in New York City alone, praying someone doesn’t snatch it from you.
It means, being diligent to choose wisely who you trust it with.
After all, our hearts are a precious thing. With one wrong motion, it can be crushed. Or, with the right one, it can be nourished and healed. It can be nurtured. And it can grow.
Though, after loss it will always be fragile and sometimes ache from the pain of missing someone, with the right person that ache and pain can be shared, comforted, and understood.
But, it requires us to be vulnerable. It requires trust. And it requires sacrifice of the iron cage we have boxed it in.
The Reward of Possibility
This little glimpse of possibility was enough for me to visit the hidden realm that my iron cage is in. Though I’m not sure I’m ready to fully open it yet, I know it’s there. I see it healing. And I can feel the warmth of possibility again.
I realize that it’s okay to finish a story, because it doesn’t mean it’s over. There’s still time to write a sequel or be surprised with a chapter two.
Besides, God desires for our love to be multiplied, not held to ourselves. He wouldn’t desire any of us to wallow in our grief and loneliness, but instead to seek out love. Whether we share love with a spouse, our children, our friends, or even our community through service. The most important thing is to just love.
“Most important of all, continue to show deep love for each other, for love covers a multitude of sins.” (1 Peter 4:8)
Love is possible.
Our story is not over yet. It’s just time to turn the page….
Are you ready?
Final Thoughts
Moving forward after loss can feel overwhelming—especially in the raw, early days of grief. And that’s okay. You don’t have to rush the process. Give yourself permission to fully embrace the season you're in without forcing yourself to “move on.”
Instead, learn to walk through your grief with grace—processing your emotions alongside God and grounding yourself in His truth.
The Grief & Gratitude Journal is a gentle 7-day journey designed to help you do just that. With daily reflections rooted in scripture, it will guide you in renewing your mind, healing your heart, and rediscovering the woman God created you to be—all while embracing the power of gratitude along the way.
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Visit Outnumberedbychaos.com to grab your copy now!
About Dionna Lee
Dionna Lee is a widowed mom of three, a faith-filled writer and podcaster, and the heart behind Outnumbered by Chaos.
She is all about Jesus and dedicated to helping Christian moms navigate grief, find healing, and create peace in their faith, families, and homes.
Through raw honesty and biblical wisdom, Dionna encourages women to embrace God’s presence in the messy, in-between moments of loss and life. Her mission is to remind you that healing is possible, and you don’t have to walk this journey alone.
