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Canny Kayna

I wish you were here to see this


Is it just me, or do you experience this too?

That feeling that creeps up when the kids are already sleeping, the house is so quiet, and you're cleaning and resetting. It's the quiet grief that comes with a slow ache in your heart. The mixed feeling of happiness as you replay how your day went: the new milestone your baby just unlocked, the new word your toddler surprised you with, the little ordinary moment that made you smile. And then, right in the middle of all that warmth, you remember your parent who is no longer here. And you thought:

I wish you were here to see this.

That's the grief nobody warns you about. Nowhere to put the good stuff.

And when you're also a mom, grieving the people who would have shown you how to do this, there's a second layer underneath it. You're missing them and doing the very thing they would have guided you through, at the same time, with no roadmap.

I've been sitting with that. Reading through Scripture slowly, honestly, sometimes with no idea what I'm even looking for. And I keep finding verses that feel like they were written for this exact season.

Not the quick-comfort kind. The kind that name where you are before they try to move you anywhere.

Psalm 56:8 says God collected your tears in a bottle. Including the ones you swallowed back down so your kids wouldn't hear you. Habakkuk 3 was written by a man who had nothing left, and he still found a reason to say I will rejoice. Lamentations 3 gave us "great is your faithfulness," and it was written in rubble, by someone who had just said he forgot what peace feels like. That changes the whole song.

I put 12 of them together on the blog this week. Each one has the real backstory, the original language, why it stopped me.

You don't have to read them all at once. But save it. Come back to it on the night the quiet gets loud and you need something to hold onto.

โ€‹12 Bible Verses For The Woman Who Lost A Parent And Is Still Trying To Be A Good Momโ€‹

If this is where you are right now, I write letters like this every Tuesday. You can join us here โ€” I will meet you in your inbox.

With love,

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600 1st Ave, Ste 330 PMB 92768, Seattle, WA 98104-2246
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Canny Kayna

Hi, Iโ€™m Kayna. ๐ŸŒธ Former engineer turned stay-at-home mom โ€” grieving both my parents while raising my babies without them. This is a faith-filled space for the mother who is navigating loss, healing slowly, and still showing up every day. ๐Ÿ’Œ Join me for weekly encouragement straight to your inbox.

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