Recently, I was watching a Hallmark movie called The Spirit of Halloween. It wasn’t a religious movie or even one I expected to inspire a devotional. But something a character said caught my attention.
“The obstacle is the journey.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about those five words.
Not long ago, I wrote about a fallen tree blocking the cycling trail my husband, Mike, and I enjoy riding. The tree was an obstacle. We couldn’t simply pretend it wasn’t there. We had to decide how to get past it if we wanted to continue our ride.
But what if I hadn’t fully understood the lesson? What if the obstacle wasn’t merely something standing in the way of the journey? What if finding my way through it was part of the journey itself? I immediately thought about Luke.
Learning to Live Without My Son
When my only son was murdered, my world changed forever. I loved Luke with a love that only a mother can fully understand. He wasn’t simply someone I loved. He was part of me. And suddenly, I had to face something I never imagined possible: living the rest of my earthly life without him.
At first, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I was alive, but wanting to live was something entirely different.
There were obstacles everywhere. Luke’s first birthday after his death. My first Mother’s Day without him. Christmas. The anniversary of his murder. Dates that had once brought joy now carried heartbreaking reminders of everything I’d lost.
I couldn’t go around those days. I couldn’t erase them from the calendar. I had to live through them.
And somehow, with God’s help, I did.
Finding a Way Through
Something happened as the years passed.
I began finding ways to celebrate Luke’s life rather than allowing every special occasion to be defined only by his death. I even bought him birthday cakes each year. His picture now sits in my dining room, just outside my bedroom door. Whenever I walk past it, I often say, “I love you, Luke.” Sometimes I simply talk to him.
I know Luke is alive in heaven with Jesus. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss him. It doesn’t mean I’ve stopped wishing I could hug him, hear his voice, or watch him grow older. It means death hasn’t erased my love for him. And I’ve discovered that continuing to live doesn’t mean leaving him behind.
The Walls Around My Heart
But there was another obstacle I hadn’t fully recognized.
After losing someone I loved so deeply, I didn’t want to risk that kind of pain again. So I built walls around my heart. Perhaps I believed that if I didn’t let anyone get too close, I could protect myself from another devastating loss. Of course, walls that keep pain out can also keep love from getting in.
And here’s something I’ve only recently begun wondering about.
I forgave Tyrone, the man who murdered Luke. Eventually, I came to love him, too. Was it possible that loving Tyrone felt safer in some unexpected way because he wasn’t my husband, my child, or someone who had already occupied that deeply personal place in my life? I don’t know.
I don’t want to invent an explanation for something God was doing in my heart. I believe he gave me the ability to love Tyrone, and I don’t want to diminish that gift.
But perhaps there were things about my own heart I still needed to understand.
Maybe the journey wasn’t only about learning to live without Luke. Maybe it was also about learning that I could keep loving people, even though loving someone always carries the possibility of being hurt.
Maybe the Obstacle Really Is the Journey
Looking back, I see that I didn’t overcome grief in one dramatic moment. I faced it on ordinary days and extraordinary ones. On birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries. In moments when I cried and moments when I unexpectedly laughed.
Each time I moved forward, I learned something. I could miss Luke and still experience joy. I could remember him and still make new memories. I could protect the precious place he holds in my heart without closing that heart to everyone else. And I could trust Jesus to walk with me through things I never would have chosen.
Jesus said, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).
He never promised us a life without obstacles. But through his Word, he reminds us that even our most painful circumstances are not beyond his ability to bring about good.
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).
I still wouldn’t say that losing Luke was a lesson God needed to teach me. I would never suggest that his murder was necessary for something good to happen. But I can say that God has been with me through every obstacle I’ve faced since that terrible day. And maybe that’s what I’ve been discovering all along.
The journey isn’t always about reaching a place where the obstacles disappear. Sometimes it’s about discovering that, with Jesus beside us, we can keep living, loving, and finding joy even when life will never be the same.
What obstacle in your life might be teaching you something about the journey you’re on, and how might Jesus be helping you find your way through it?
