Navigating Grief and Finding Community Support
Grief has a way of reshaping us long before loss arrives. Sometimes the heaviest moments aren’t the ones after tragedy hits — they’re the moments spent waiting, wondering, hoping, and holding on.
In my conversation with author and pastor Sam Wegner, we stepped into the emotional landscape of “the weight of the wait.” Sam’s story — marked by anticipatory grief, faith, uncertainty, and the unwavering love he carries for his wife — offers a powerful reminder that the middle chapters of our journey are often where the deepest growth happens.
Whether you’re navigating your own season of uncertainty or supporting someone who is, Sam’s insights highlight an essential truth: we are not meant to walk through grief alone.
Grief doesn’t always arrive in a single heartbreaking moment. Sometimes it shows up quietly, slowly, and over long stretches of time — the kind of grief that leaves you wrestling with emotions before the loss even occurs.
During our interview, Sam shared the story behind his book The Weight of the Wait, describing the decade-long cancer journey his wife has been navigating. What struck me most wasn’t just the emotional difficulty of the situation, but the honesty with which Sam spoke about the tension between faith, fear, and control.
He didn’t sugarcoat the uncertainty.
He didn’t pretend to have all the answers.
He simply told the truth — and that truth carries power.
The Battle Between Control and Surrender
One of the most profound insights Sam offered was that the opposite of faith isn’t fear — it’s control. We often try to manage outcomes, force timelines, or “fix” what can’t be fixed. But Sam reminded us that freedom comes when we release what we were never meant to hold.
This kind of surrender isn’t weakness.
It’s clarity.
It’s peace.
It’s courage.
The Strength Found in Community
Sam also spoke about the essential role community plays during seasons of waiting. Grief tends to isolate. People rarely lead conversations by saying, “My wife is dying of cancer,” even though one in three families is impacted by the disease.
But when we choose vulnerability, we give others permission to show up honestly too.
Community doesn’t remove the pain — but it makes the journey bearable.
It makes healing possible.
And it reminds us that hope grows best when it’s shared.
PERSONAL REFLECTION
Talking with Sam reminded me that audacity isn’t always loud, bold, or outwardly powerful. Sometimes audacity looks like waking up every day and choosing hope again.
It’s easy to celebrate confidence and big leaps forward, but this conversation showed me that courage often lives in the quiet spaces — in the waiting, in the questioning, in the holding on.
I walked away inspired by Sam’s honesty and grounded faith, and I believe his story will inspire anyone who needs strength in a season where answers feel distant.
After you read the blog, I encourage you to listen to the full episode of The Audacious Living Podcast. Sam’s transparency, strength, and grounded hope bring this conversation to life in ways that words alone can’t capture.
👉 Listen to the full interview — it’s one of the most meaningful conversations I’ve shared.