Grief and Faith

 

Teresita Leilani Kinser






Today didn’t go the way I thought it would. 

I hadn’t slept at all since finding out about Leilani last night at 11:15 p.m. By the time morning came, I was already running on grief and exhaustion.


My father and I went to her church expecting there to be a service for her. There wasn’t one after all. Instead, there was a regular Sunday service. That wasn’t what I expected — but I stayed. And honestly, I needed the Word. It wasn’t what I went there for, but it was what I needed.


This was the church Leilani attended. It’s also the church she directed my dad to for GriefShare. Sitting there felt like being in a place she had already shaped with her presence.


People already knew my name because of my father’s grief meetings. That alone made the moment heavier. I hadn’t been there before, but I wasn’t a stranger either.


My dad also took his first communion today. Ever. Watching that happen on a day centered around loss was something I didn’t expect. It felt like grief and faith standing in the same space.


During the service, Scripture was read about when Jesus asked His disciples who they believed He was, and Peter answered, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” That moment stayed with me. In a room filled with loss, the question still stood: Who do you say He is? Not just in calm moments, but in days like this — when nothing makes sense.


Another passage spoke about how God’s ways are higher than ours, and His thoughts higher than our thoughts. That His plans are not fully known to us. I don’t understand why Leilani was taken so suddenly. I don’t understand the timing. But I do understand that I don’t see the whole picture.


We were there to pay our respects and to honor Leilani. We also tried to comfort the man who was supposed to marry her in two weeks, had she not passed so suddenly and unexpectedly. There are no real words for something like that. Only presence.


I couldn’t stop the tears. They came quietly but steadily through most of the service. It wasn’t just about Leilani. Loss doesn’t travel alone. It brings the others with it.


The church was called Reflection Church, in Rockport, Texas. The name fit the moment.


Today wasn’t about answers.

It was about showing up.

About honoring someone who mattered.

About sitting with grief instead of running from it.


I’ve been around too much death already. Enough that each new one doesn’t just hurt — it reminds me of all the others.


But today reminded me of something else too:

love leaves a mark.

In people.

In places.

And in the lives it touches.


Leilani’s service will be held on 2/8/26 at 12:00 p.m.


https://youtu.be/g3bz2BfhURk?si=4qzR44r9B0y_GR2X


https://reflectionrf.org/


Operating Without a Manual series where Leilani is mentioned:

https://www.amazon.com/Operating-Without-a-Manual-6-book-series/dp/B0GGLTHBQ2

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