When Life Feels Random

I found myself asking a question I’ve asked many times over the years:

How random is life?

But this time, it wasn’t theoretical.It wasn’t something to ponder over coffee or write about from a distance.

A couple stands side by side in a warmly lit setting, surrounded by a dreamy array of glowing lights and soft bokeh, capturing a magical moment together.

It came from heartbreak.

A young woman in her early thirties—full of life, full of promise—was married just weeks ago.

She was pregnant, stepping into a new chapter filled with love, anticipation, and hope.

And then, in less than two weeks… she was gone.

No warning.No time to prepare.No way to make sense of it.

Just like that, a wedding turned into a funeral.A beginning turned into an ending.

And the question rises up again—louder this time:

How can life be so random?

Because it feels that way, doesn’t it?

We plan. We dream. We look ahead and imagine the shape of our lives.

We assume there will be time.

Time to love. Time to grow. Time to become.

And then something like this happens—and it reminds us, in the most painful way, that time is never guaranteed.

There is a randomness to life that we cannot control.Timing doesn’t always make sense.There is no fairness meter keeping things balanced.

Good things happen.Terrible things happen.And sometimes, they happen side by side.

A wedding.A baby on the way.And then unimaginable loss.

So, what do we do with that?

Because we have to do something. We can’t just sit in the question forever.

Over the years, walking alongside grief—in my own life and in the lives of so many others—I’ve come to understand this: Life may be random… but love is not.

Love is intentional.Love is real.Love is what remains when everything else feels uncertain.

That young woman’s life mattered.Her love mattered.The joy she experienced—especially in those last weeks—was real.

It doesn’t disappear because her life was cut short.

And for those left behind—her husband, her family, her friends—the grief will come in waves. Shock. Disbelief. Anger. Deep, aching sorrow.

There are no perfect words for a loss like this.

Sometimes the most honest response is simply:

I don’t understand either. This shouldn’t have happened. I’m here with you.

Because grief is not something we fix.It’s something we witness.Something we walk through—together.

If this loss teaches us anything—and it’s a hard lesson—it’s this:

Don’t wait.

Don’t wait to say, “I love you.” Don’t wait to show up. Don’t wait to live fully in the moments you are given.

Because life is fragile.And sometimes, heartbreakingly, it is unpredictable.

But even in that uncertainty… love is still ours to give.

And that may be the one thing that is never random.

Be well, be loving, be intentional with those you love,

Shirley ___

Promotional copy:

Life can feel unbearably random.

A beginning… turned into an ending far too soon.

So here’s what matters:

Love is not random. Give it freely. Give it now.