Messy Edits

Yesterday’s post was a mess for those of you who receive it through email.  

I’m sorry.

What had been a previous draft was tacked onto the bottom of what I wanted to send out so the whole thing was not really how I meant it to be.

But maybe it was how it should have been.

Because that’s where I find myself so often this side of child loss-all the careful editing of words and careful managing of appearances is impossible.   I just don’t have the resources or the energy.  So too often (for my own comfort and probably the comfort of others) the words just tumble out.

A fire hose instead of the gentle trickle I’d rather them be.

That’s why I rely on writing whenever possible.  It gives me a chance to start, stop and revisit what I want to say and how I want to say it.

But yesterday, well, you got the fire hose version.  

There was so much I wanted to say-I wanted to thank Brenda for the portrait and share how having a new picture was truly a balm for my soul-and also to express how I am still unbelievably sad that my son will never grow older.

I intended to blend the two into a seamless post but couldn’t do it so I left it alone for a few hours.  Grief brain kicked in, I forgot about the second bit and just hit “publish”.

So you got the messy version.  The version that lives inside my heart and mind most days.  It’s not pretty and there is a constant battle between hope and helplessness.

I work hard to hold onto hope.  

I keep fighting.  

But it’s messy.

those that wait in hope shall not be ashamed

Author: Melanie

I am a shepherd, wife and mother of four amazing children, three that walk the earth with me and one who lives with Jesus. This is a record of my grief journey and a look into the life I didn't choose. If you are interested in joining a community of bereaved parents leaning on the promises of God in Christ, please like the public Facebook page, "Heartache and Hope: Life After Losing a Child" and join the conversation.

11 thoughts on “Messy Edits”

  1. I went to a funeral for a dear friend’s elderly mother this morning. Of course, the minute the soloist started in on “I Can Only Imagine” , I was a puddle.. As hard as I tried to sit there quietly, supporting my friend in her loss; I was tumulted back to my son’s funeral 3 years earlier and gut wrenching sobs erupted from my soul….. and flowed out into the church………oh how embarrassing….. how I wanted to just run and hide. I am just not ready to be seen in public!!!!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Your response was appropriate. Death is awful. Even the death of an aged saint. Because the blessed hope for all of us in Christ is that we will be changed in a twinkling of an eye without tasting death. I am so sorry that you were overwhelmed. But please don’t be embarrassed. Your spirit is sensitive and wounded. How could it be otherwise? ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  2. “And so I sit here with the rain falling wishing Dominic wasn’t dead”, and everyone of us added our own child`s name to that sentence.
    We had a paid holiday from work yesterday. I will be asked a dozen times, “did you have a good holiday?”
    “Um no, Sawyer is still dead.”
    I will have to figure out an edit for that before i get to the time clock💔

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I know! It’s so hard to answer those seemingly innocent conversation starter questions. They have no idea, but it still takes a lot of self-discipline not to answer straight from my heart like you said. ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  3. That sums up my life most days. Messy edits. Between my fibromyalgia and my grief I can hardly have a conversation and stay on topic. It’s frustrating, but most everyone around me is quite used to it.

    Liked by 1 person

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