Pope Francis has died. As someone who has lived through the wounds of the Church (and still loves her deeply), I find myself sitting in this moment with a mix of emotions.
I know I’m not alone. When the Catholic Church makes headlines, survivors react. It can stir up memories—some painful and some good. The death of a pope touches deep places in many of us. There will be time to unpack it all. For now, it’s important to give ourselves and others permission to grieve in our own way.
In the days ahead, Catholic media and everyday faithful will continue to share tributes and reflections. Some will praise Pope Francis. Others will critique his legacy. Many will mourn deeply, while some may feel relief. For me, this moment is not primarily about commentary.
Right now, I believe we are first called to pray.
Francis was a man. He was flawed like all of us. At times he led with wisdom and tenderness. At other times, he faltered. He bore the immense weight of Peter’s office. Whether we agreed with him or not, that burden deserves our respect. As someone who has been hurt by the Church and spent years trying to understand that pain, I still know this: no one makes it through this life without needing mercy.
And so, I am praying. I am praying for Pope Francis’s soul. I’m praying for the Church—that she might grieve well, not with denial or premature canonizations, but with truth and charity. And I am praying for the one who will take his place.
There will come a time to speak honestly about this papacy—about its contradictions, its missed opportunities, and its wounds. That time will come. Today, I’m not writing as a critic, a survivor, or even a concerned lay Catholic. Today, I’m trying to speak simply as a daughter of the Church.
There is much to reckon with after any pontificate. There is still healing and truth needed now, but I believe the first step toward any real healing is always prayer. Prayer is never wasted. It is the most honest offering we can make.
So let us pray for Pope Francis and for Holy Mother Church.
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace.
May the Holy Spirit guide the conclave to come. May a holy shepherd be raised up, one who will lead with courage, compassion, and clarity, and who will never forget the wounded among his flock.
The Chair of Peter is empty—for now. Our brothers and sisters are mourning in many ways and for many reasons.Let us weep if we need to, hope as we must, and pray without ceasing.
