I sat down today, just trying to relax, letting old Afro beats carry me somewhere lighter. Then that song came on, “Fall in Love” by D’banj. The moment those first notes hit, it felt like someone opened a door in my chest. Suddenly I was back in the early days, young and hopeful, dreaming about forever with the man I loved. That was our couple dance song. We would have been celebrating 17 years of marriage this November 22nd. Seventeen. It still catches me.
The first thing that came to mind was our little circle. Twelve years. Twelve beautiful years of marriage with four boys who carry pieces of him in their eyes, their laughter, their walk. It felt like a complete circle at the time. Whole. Covered. Full.
Then grief whispered something that hurts every time. The thought that I wasted twelve whole years only for it to end in death. That terrible, heavy ache that asks, “What was the point if it ended like this?”
People say grief fades. I don’t know that it ever does. It shifts and changes shape, but it never fully leaves. There are seasons when it feels like I am breathing normally, and seasons like this one when Emmanuel’s absence sits beside me like a shadow. Bitter and sweet at the same time. Sweet because of the memories. Bitter because of the vacuum he left behind.
I look back at all the effort we put in. The sacrifices. The prayers. The plans. The late night dreams of growing old together. Rocking on a porch somewhere, watching grandchildren run around. We really believed we would get there.
Losing him taught me that love is never wasted. Even when it is cut short, it still leaves something behind. It shaped me. It stretched me. It gave me four incredible boys who carry both our stories forward.
And thank God for the love I have found now. It is a blessing I do not take lightly. It is not a replacement and it will never be. Emmanuel’s memory holds its own place in my heart. What I have now is a new chapter, not a rewrite of the old one. A gift that reminds me that my heart can hold both grief and love at the same time.
This season is tender. It brings joy and pain. It reminds me of what was and what could have been. But it also reminds me that I survived. That love did not die with him. That I am still capable of feeling, giving, and receiving love.
The grief never fully goes away, but neither does the love.
Hey, I’m Ruth Hephzibah. People call me when they are stuck because I help them get out of the mud and rise again. If you have ever walked through a storm you did not think you would survive, I understand you deeply. My life has been shaped by both grief and grace. I know what it feels like to rebuild yourself after everything familiar has fallen apart. I know what it means to rise again when your heart feels like it has shattered into pieces. My healing journey did not begin in a classroom. It began in real life. In hospital rooms. In moments of crushing loss. In long nights when I could not find the strength to breathe through the pain. Losing my husband, my mother in law, and my father in law in one heartbreaking season while raising four children and trying to remember who I was changed everything. It pushed me into a new level of faith, honesty, and self discovery. But it also opened the door to the work I was created to do. Somewhere between the breaking and the rising, I discovered my purpose. Today, I am a psychosocial rehabilitation specialist, grief transformation coach, author, and international speaker. I help people move from stuck to unstuck, from surviving to living, from emotional numbness to emotional freedom. I speak at conferences, churches, retreats, and wellness events around the world, sharing the truth that healing is possible and new beginnings are real. My voice is gentle but honest, tender but strong. I speak the way I live, from experience and with compassion. I am the author of A Pen That Rewrites Grief, Love Again, Sacred Sensuality, You Don’t Have to Carry This Anymore, The Grief That Never Goes Away, and a growing collection of mini series, workbooks, and emotional healing tools. I host the Grief2Grace Podcast, where I walk with listeners through healing, faith, grief recovery, and the courage to rise again. I also lead Echoes of Life, a nonprofit that supports kidney and rare cancer patients, caregivers, and families. That work is deeply personal to me. It carries the imprint of my own journey. My path through cancer in the family, death, identity collapse, and the long quiet rebuilding of my soul became the foundation for the work I do today. I help people navigate the kind of emotional pain that steals language. I help them move from surviving to living again. I help them find inner safety in a world that does not always feel safe. My passion is guiding people back to their voice, their identity, and the version of themselves that life tried to bury. I founded RH Haven and Grief2Grace because I believe in creating spaces where people can breathe again. Spaces where your story matters, where your wounds are not dismissed, where your trauma is understood, and where healing feels possible no matter what you have been through. I am also a mother of four amazing boys, a worship leader, and someone who has learned to fight for joy even in the darkest seasons. Everything I write, teach, or speak comes from lived experience, clinical understanding, and a heart that truly cares. So if you ended up here, I believe it is for a reason. My hope is that these words meet you where you are and remind you that healing is not only possible. It is your birthright. You deserve wholeness. You deserve peace. You deserve emotional freedom. And you do not have to walk this journey alone. Hey, I am Ruth Hephzibah. And I am honored to walk this part of your healing journey with you
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Ruth Hephzibah Haven 