I first shared this in 2014 not quite a month after Dominic ran ahead to heaven.
His leaving has made me much more aware that what we read as “stories”where we can turn to the last page and know the ending, others lived in real time, with no ability to fast forward to the ending.
Read the rest here: Barefoot Over Broken Ground
I cannot bring Dominic back-I cannot have my child once again in my arms. I cannot undo the damage death has wrought and the great gash loss has made in my heart.
And so I am left with my pain and my questions.
“Why?” is not a particularly fruitful question (although I ask it still).
“Why not?” is probably more helpful.
If I consider the lives of all the people God chose as examples of His faithfulness and grace there is not one who escapes heartache.
Read the rest here: Why Not?
I was (and am) relying on my senses to tell me where I am in this process of embracing the life I didn’t choose. Yet they are easily overwhelmed by my daily experience-crying one day, laughing the next, undone by memories again, blessed by a friend’s text or phone call-filled to the brim with input.
I have a hard time sorting it out and looking objectively at what the data suggests.
When I can take a step back, I see that my heart has healed in some measure. I have enfolded the truth that Dominic is not here into who I am and what my life will look like until I join him in heaven.
Read the rest here: [Mis] Perception
As we enter the week on the Christian calendar when most churches celebrate the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ, I am reminded that often we race past the road that lead to Calvary and linger at the empty tomb.
But to understand the beauty of forgiveness and the blessing of redemption, we MUST acknowledge the sorrow of sin and the burden of brokenness.
When our sacred spaces draw boundaries around what we can bring to the Lord’s Table, we exclude the very ones who are desperate for the bread and cup.
Read the rest here: Making Space for Brokenness at the Table of the LORD
Whether the burden is child loss, abuse, chronic illness or some other ongoing and unchangeable hard circumstance, it’s easy to get so good at acting “OK” you can almost fool yourself.
But all that stress and struggle exacts a cost.
Pretending that it doesn’t is not helpful at all.
Read the rest here: Don’t Let It Fool You
So often we hide our wounds.
Sometimes it’s because others have shamed us into covering up. Sometimes it’s because our hearts have been stomped on by folks who might mean well but really don’t understand what it’s like to live every day with a messy and unfinished story.
But there’s no shame in being broken.
And we have no obligation to pretend for those that are uncomfortable with our wounds and our sorrow.
In fact, there is no greater invitation to the good news that Jesus came to redeem and restore than a person whose life makes plain that they are depending on Him for that very promise.
One of the blessings (although I didn’t realize it at the time) of the early days of this journey was the immediacy of my response to triggers.
Something would upset me and I would react right away.
Nearly five years in and I’ve developed such excellent coping skills that I am rarely caught off guard, cry in public or respond dramatically regardless of what happens.
So this past couple weeks of on again/off again stress has been met, for the most part, with a calm demeanor and a “can do” attitude.
But it caught up to me last night.
All the pent-up, piled-up stress and grief poured out of my heart and dripped down my face.
I had a good, old-fashioned meltdown.
Smack dab in the middle of overwhelming thankfulness that my grandson is doing well, my heart reminded me that Dominic is not here the enjoy it. I remembered that Ryker will grow up and never see Dom’s amazing dexterity on the drums or hear his witty remarks or be caught up in his powerful hands and held overhead until he squeals to be released.
And I realized once again that while I love, love, love the blessings God sends my way, there’s no cosmic scale where those blessings eventually counter-balance the desperate longing I have for my son.
I have so appreciated the messages from other bereaved parents who “get it”. They know that I am absolutely overjoyed my son and his wife are spared the horror of child loss. But they also know that my mama heart still yearns for my own son even while rejoicing in the birth of theirs.
I’ll be OK.
A few tears, a quiet evening, reflection on truth and my heart will manage to find a way.