Tim Broyles

Review of Take Another Step: Surviving the Pathways of Grief by Tim Broyles
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (5 out of 5 stars)

I read Take Another Step during the first half of 2025, though it entered my life months earlier — through the hand of the author himself.

After the death of my mother in May 2024, I found myself carrying not just grief, but also a fresh wound from an incident surrounding her funeral — something deeply hurtful, involving the entire pastoral staff of my church. I needed someone to show more hear me out. Tim Broyles did. He listened — without interruption, without judgment, and without trying to fix me. That, in itself, was healing.

Before I left his office, he handed me this book — his book — written in the wake of his own painful divorce. And what he offered wasn’t just a manual or a devotional. It was a companion.

Tim speaks to grief in its many forms: the death of a parent, of a marriage, of unborn children, of cherished pets. His core affirmation is simple and essential: grief is grief. If you’re hurting, that’s okay. Own it. Go through it. He urges readers to feel what they feel, and to move through sorrow rather than around it.

One of the most valuable takeaways is the idea of surrounding yourself with accountability partners — people who will listen, without trying to advise or judge. The book names this for what it is: a ministry. The ministry of showing up. Sometimes, that’s everything.

Tim also encourages journaling — capturing thoughts in writing rather than bottling them up. As a writer and griever myself, I found that advice especially affirming.

Perhaps the most surprising quality of the book is its warmth. Despite the heaviness of its subject, it carries a mood of quiet joy and hope. It gently reminds us to be present — to take one moment, one breath, one step at a time. As Tim puts it, grief is not the end of the story. It’s part of the journey forward.

I’d recommend Take Another Step to anyone walking through grief — but perhaps even more to those who are walking with someone grieving. This book doesn’t just help you survive sorrow; it teaches you how to be a sacred presence in someone else’s.

For me, it’s more than a book — it’s part of an ongoing conversation with a friend. And that makes it holy. show less