The Work Still Stands: Reflections on Grief, Loss, and the Ones Who Carried Us
In loving honor of Archbishop Billy Ray Wilson
🟣 THE REFLECTION
This week has felt… different.
There’s been a quiet weight resting on my spirit. Not sadness in the traditional sense, but something deeper. The kind of shift that comes when someone who meant a great deal to your journey transitions from this side of eternity to the next.
Archbishop Billy Ray Wilson, my spiritual grandfather and a true giant in the Kingdom, has gone home to be with the Lord. He wasn’t just my Bishop’s covering—he was the first pastor I sat under when my family moved to Rock Hill, South Carolina. His presence shaped the beginning of my spiritual walk in this region.
He was also the one who blessed my family to follow Bishop Duncan, my spiritual father, when God called him to plant what would become The Garden. That blessing wasn’t just permission—it was divine alignment. And that alignment began a chain of transformation in my life.
Standing in Gethsemane today, I didn’t expect it to hit me like it did. But walking back into that space, I felt something awaken in me. Something sacred. Something… familiar. It was like my soul remembered who I was before life got complicated.
I was reminded of the words Bishop Duncan, my spiritual father, spoke that helped me recognize that who I am—the real me—was worthy to be loved and more than just “enough.” His words helped give me the strength to see my worth. That’s when I began to step toward a higher version of myself. That’s when I realized that healing is not always about what you leave… sometimes it’s about what you return to.
🟣 THE REVELATION
Grief is layered. It isn’t always loud.
It doesn’t only show up when someone passes—it can show up when people simply shift.
Sometimes, grief comes wrapped in silence.
There are people I’ve lost to death. But there are others I’ve lost to distance.
People who once poured into me who are no longer close.
Connections that faded. Voices that once covered me… now gone quiet.
We don’t always mourn because someone died. Sometimes we mourn because we miss what we had, and who we were when we had it.
But here’s what I know now: even when the people are gone, the purpose continues.
Their presence may no longer be accessible—but their legacy is still alive inside of me.
🟣 THE REFRAME
Grief doesn’t always want you to move.
Sometimes, it wants you to pause, sit in the stillness, and just feel.
But eventually, something rises up in you and reminds you: you weren’t left empty—you were left equipped.
Everything they taught you, prayed over you, planted in you... it wasn’t just for the past. It was for the part of you that would one day stand tall in their absence and say, “I’m ready now.”
This isn’t about chasing feelings or forcing closure.
It’s about honoring the ones who carried us by continuing to carry the work.
Through us.
🟣 THE RECOGNITION
This is for everyone carrying silent grief…
For those who still show up even while holding space for those who no longer do.
For those who feel a nudge to return to their spiritual roots—but are scared to make the move.
For the ones who quietly mourn people still living.
For the ones who’ve lost coverings, confidants, or callings—but are now realizing:
The work still stands—
And so do you.
🟣 THE REFLECTION QUESTIONS
Who are the spiritual leaders, mentors, or loved ones that once poured into you? What did they deposit in your life that you’re still carrying today?
Are there areas where grief or loss—of people, connection, or place—has created a silent pause in your progress?
What sacred spaces or relationships have you left behind that you may now feel called to revisit?
Is your current spiritual environment feeding your growth, or are you feeling the pull to return to where your roots were nourished?
What legacy are you carrying forward—and are you ready to walk in it?
🟣 THE CALL TO ACTION
This week, I challenge you to:
Pause and honor someone who once carried you—through prayer, a journal entry, or by simply saying their name out loud.
Revisit the last time you felt spiritually grounded and aligned. Ask God if that place still holds your next season.
Reflect on what “home” feels like. Not just the place, but the presence. If your spirit feels drawn to go back—don’t resist out of pride or fear. Let God confirm the move.
With honor, purpose, and grace,
Tavon J.
Faith-Led Life Coach & Boss Up Strategist
Covered by grace. Fueled by grit.
www.TheBossUpChronicles.com
@bossupwithtavon | bossup@bossuphq.com (coming soon)
🌿 In Loving Honor of Archbishop Billy Ray Wilson
A spiritual father, a legacy builder, and a man whose prayers and presence planted purpose into generations.
Thank you for standing strong so we could stand too.