child loss – Page 236 – thelifeididntchoose

One Day at a Time

A friend who is now battling a new challenge in addition to child loss posted this on her Facebook timeline:

You’re not going to master the rest of your life in one day. Just relax.

Master the day.

Then just keep doing that every day.

I LOVE it! And it reminded me of this quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson that has been on my refrigerator for years:

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

Truth is, no matter how much we may TRY to live life in weeks or months or years, we really are only able to live it one day at a time.

And as Jesus said over 2000 years ago: “Don’t worry at all then about tomorrow. Tomorrow can take care of itself! One day’s trouble is enough for one day.” (Matthew 6:34)

If I never knew it before, I know it now.

I am good for a single 24 hour period-one revolution of the earth.

That’s it.

Sure I put stuff on my calendar. I have to. But I never take it for granted. I never assume that what I think is going to happen next week really will happen next week.

I know better.

And I’ve also learned there is absolutely NO use in worrying about what MIGHT happen. Because worrying does not rob tomorrow of its problems, it only robs today of its joys.

So I work each day to do THAT day. I make it the most productive, most love-filled and life-giving day I can.

I go to bed satisfied that I’ve done my best.

Get up the next sunrise and do it again.

One day at a time.

Grief: Why I Still Need Grace From Friends and Family

There have been a number of television shows lately centered around families and personal tragedy that simultaneously draws them closer and tears them apart.

Some of the writers and actors are doing a good job showing what it looks like to live through a nightmare.

Some, not so much.

But none of them will take it out to years and decades-the audience would lose interest, decide that story line needed refreshing or simply needed to GO.

For those living with child loss, it’s no story line. We don’t get to walk away, change the channel, find some new and more interesting or more comfortable screen to watch.

It’s our life.

And we need folks who will hang in and hang on while we live it out. ❤

You cannot possibly know that scented soap takes me back to my son’s apartment in an instant.

You weren’t there when I cleaned it for the last time, boxed up the contents under the sink and wiped the beautiful, greasy hand prints off the shower wall. He had worked on a friend’s car that night, jumped in to clean up and was off.

He never made it home.

So when I come out of the room red-eyed, teary and quiet, please don’t look at me like I’m a freak.

Please don’t corner me and ask, “What’s wrong?” Or worse-please, please, please don’t suggest I should be “over it by now”.

Read the rest here: Grief and Grace:What I Need from Friends and Family

Repost: Heartache, Healing & Hope

This was what I wrote after last February’s retreat.

For an introvert who prefers writing to chatting it was a real stretch.

But it was so worth it!!!

If you are close enough to join us in November, please pray diligently about whether God would have you go. I promise that you will not regret it-even if it’s a stretch for you too.

“I spent last weekend with eleven other bereaved mamas in a small Christian camp in Mississippi*

I’ll be honest-what sounded like a great idea a few months ago had begun to sound like an awful and intimidating idea about three days before I was supposed to go.

Even though I felt more prepared for this event than the Through This Valley Conference in October, I was still filled with trepidation at facilitating five sessions over three days with women I had only “met” online.”

Read the rest here: Heartache, Healing and Hope

Bereaved Mom’s Retreat: Anchoring Our Hearts in Christ

Last February I did something I wasn’t sure I was ready for-I spent a weekend with a dozen other bereaved moms at a small Christian retreat.

It was close quarters (a challenge for this introvert!) and we were together 24 hours a day for nearly three days. (You can read about it here)

It was beautiful!

We began by sharing the story of our child-no pressure to make it short, no pressure not to cry, no pressure to tie the ragged ends up in tidy bows for the comfort of those listening.

And then we prayed.

By the time we went to bed that night hearts were already being knit together in love. Many of us have stayed in touch since then and some live close enough to get together often. All of us left stronger than when we got there.

What a gift!

We are doing it again November 2-4 at Abby Acres Christian Camp .

Space is limited (18 as long as 6 don’t mind top bunks 🙂 )and the cost is minimal (75.00 including meals!), so make sure to call Hope Lee at the numbers listed below if you’re interested. [662-256-5652 OR 662-574-8445] The nearest large airport is Memphis, TN which puts you about a two hour drive from the camp.

Our theme for the weekend is “Anchoring Our Hearts in Christ”.

DEADLINE TO REGISTER IS OCTOBER 15TH so call Hope soon! ❤

I’ll once again be facilitating interactive sessions centered around Scripture, filled with personal examples and overflowing with encouragement for battered and bruised hearts.

Please join us!

I promise you won’t regret it. ❤

Forgiveness and Healthy Boundaries

I do not believe that in offering genuine forgiveness I am required to again submit myself to another person’s hurtful or sinful behavior.

I do believe that forgiveness releases that person from past offenses against me but it does not release them to continue to wound my heart.

And I will stand up any time, anywhere and defend my. right to create healthy boundaries between my heart and someone who has proven, time and again, that they intend to do just that.

What does this look like in real life?

It means that I can call, write or tell someone that I truly forgive them for whatever pain they have caused me in the past. That frees MY heart.

But if that person refuses to change his or her behavior, I am not obligated to allow them close enough to hurt me again.

It is NOT proof of an unforgiving heart to set up healthy boundaries.

It is wisdom.

So I don’t have to invite them to every event. I don’t have to allow them to corner me at gatherings where we both may attend. I don’t have to tell them all the news in my life or include them in my circle of closest comrades.

I can be polite. I will refuse to spread malicious gossip about them and not continue to talk about the old wounds for which I’ve forgiven them.

When my heart tries to resurrect the forgiven offenses, I will remind it that those are no longer relevant. I will not let bitterness overtake me.

There’s a compelling and beautiful anecdote about Corrie Ten Boom and forgiveness:

After WW II, Corrie traveled Europe speaking on the grace of God found even in Ravensbruck, the concentration camp where she was imprisoned and in which her sister died.

After one such talk, a German man came up to her and mentioned that he had been a guard at that camp. Corrie recognized him though he, of course, did not recognize her.

He thanked her for what she shared and put out his hand to shake hers. At that moment, she knew what she SHOULD do, but she did not want to do it. She did not want to touch this man’s hand and offer forgiveness for what many felt was utterly unforgivable.

But God convicted her heart and in obedience she extended her hand. She speaks of how she felt the Lord’s love and forgiveness wash over her and flow through her when she acted in obedience.

She never saw him again.

But for many of us, we continue to see and rub shoulders with the ones who have wounded us.

And if Corrie had again been forced into a concentration camp, she would not have been wrong to go kicking and screaming.

Forgiving that German guard did not excuse what he had done nor did it mean that if he was intent on repeating it that she (or anyone else) had to simply go along.

You do not have to allow another person to use you as a punching bag. You do not have to subject your heart to verbal or emotional abuse. You do not have to prove the sincerity of your forgiveness by enabling continued bad behavior.

That’s neither wise nor helpful.

Boundaries are OK.

They are necessary.

And they do not mean you haven’t forgiven someone.

Keeping Short Accounts: What I’m Learning From My Son’s Sudden Death

This Sunday morning I had to extend and ask for forgiveness all within fifteen minutes.

One person said something that unintentionally hurt my heart (he had no idea that what he said plunged a knife in it) and then I overstepped in making an event public before making sure it was definitely on the calendar.

It could have meant I walked away offended and upset.

But I didn’t.

Instead I was honest with the person who upset me about what he said and why it hurt. He apologized immediately and I was quick to accept it. And when I realized I had offended the other person, I asked for her forgiveness and she granted it too.

I find it’s easier for me to do both- ask for and extend forgiveness-this side of child loss for lots of reasons.

First, I’m learning that I just don’t have the energy to maintain an offense.

Offenses are like very fragile hot house plants-they need lots of tending, protection from the elements and so much time. I used to be good at keeping an offense healthy and vibrant. I would feed it often and refuse to subject it to the harsh winds of real life where it could be shown for what it was-not worth the energy or effort!

It’s so much easier to wipe the slate clean and begin again.

Second, I’m learning that since grief wears me down in so many ways, I don’t have the resources to maintain my own mask, keep up my own pretense of always being in a good mood, smiling and having the right words to say. So I make mistakes, step on toes and feelings with a fair degree of regularity and NEED forgiveness often myself.

I can hardly expect others to extend to me what I withhold from them!

Third, I’m learning that the only thing worse than finding out someone I care about is beyond reach is hearing that news knowing I never made things right when it was within my power to do so.

When you’re expecting your healthy, vibrant, youthful son to pop over on Saturday morning but instead get a knock on the door before sunrise, it changes everything.

Sometimes I don’t heed my own advice.

But when I’m paying attention, listening to my heart and really present, I work hard to keep short accounts with those I love and even those I don’t.

Paul wrote:

Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law.

~Romans 13:8

I don’t want to leave this world owing anybody anything except love.

Love is never satisfied because hearts always need more.

And I am glad to pay it.

Repost :Why Friends Abandon Grievers

It’s been a long year.

And an even longer last three months.

I can tell the stress is easing, the burden lifting and the clouds parting. But carrying the load for so long has caught up to me.

And I think I’ve finally reached the end of any reserve energy I may have had.

I try hard to write original material most days and there’s a backlog of over 1000 blog post drafts I can draw from but I just don’t have it in me today.

So here’s another repost of a popular blog from earlier this year:

“It happens in all kinds of ways. One friend just slowly backs off from liking posts on Facebook, waves at a distance from across the sanctuary, stops texting to check up on me.

Another observes complete radio silence as soon as she walks away from the graveside.

Still another hangs in for a few weeks-calls, texts, even invites me to lunch until I can see in her eyes that my lack of “progress” is making her uneasy. Then she, too, falls off the grid.

Why do people do that?

Why is it, when we need them most, many friends-and I mean really, truly FRIENDS–just can’t hang in and hold on?”

Read the rest here: Why Friends Abandon Grievers

We Remember Them

Since Dominic ran ahead I collect poems, sayings and quotes that help my heart put words to what it feels.

I consider each one a gift.

Over the next few days I will share some of them with you-I hope you find them as beautiful and helpful as I do.

This is a beautiful, traditional Jewish blessing often shared with mourners.

No matter what I’m doing or where I am, I always remember Dominic. ❤

In the rising of the sun and it’s going down, we remember them.

In the blowing of the wind and the chill of the Winter, we remember them.

In the opening of buds and in the rebirth of Spring, we remember them.

In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of Summer, we remember them.

In the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of Autumn, we remember them.

In the beginning of the year and when it ends, we remember them.

When we are weary and in need of strength, we remember them.

When we are lost and sick at heart, we remember them.

When we have joys we yearn to share, we remember them.

As long as we live, they too shall live, for they are now a part of us, as we remember them.

~Rabbi Sylvan Kamens and Rabbi Jack Riemer

When You Feel Like You Can’t Breathe: Setting Living Children Free

A couple weeks ago I walked away from my son’s house, after kissing him goodbye and prayed under my breath that it won’t be the last time I see his bright eyes and lively smile.

Because when you’ve mistakenly waved a cheery “see you later” to your child, ignorant that it’s the LAST time, your heart never takes these moments for granted again.

I drink in the laugh lines around his 30 year old eyes, wondering if mine had laugh lines at that young age as well.

I make a mental record of the timbre of his voice, the set of his shoulders, the way he laughs.

I cannot get enough of him- like a parched woman in the desert-trying to quench a thirst that simply cannot be filled.

He’s off to an adventure and I refuse to squelch his enthusiasm.

I’ve buried one son and part of my heart begs me to set up barricades and safe zones around the rest of my children.

But the truth is, I can’t. There is no way to guarantee safety in this world. And if I try to circumscribe their lives, all I will gain is a false sense of control and a strained relationship.

So I open my hand.

Open my heart.

Take a deep breath.

Pray for grace and mercy.

And let go.

Help! My Family Won’t Talk About My Missing Child.

At first everyone talked about him.

It’s what people do just after a person leaves this world and leaves behind only memories.

It comes natural before the unnatural fact of child loss settles in and begins to make everyone uncomfortable.

But at some point after the funeral and way before the tears dried up, people stopped feeling easy mentioning his name.

And when I mentioned him, they weren’t sure whether they should just let those words fall with a “thud!” between us or pick up the conversational ball and run with it.

It’s a bit easier to understand when friends do it.

But so, so many bereaved parents lament the fact that even family members stop saying their missing child’s name aloud.

They stop sharing memories and stop acknowledging the place he or she holds in a parent’s heart regardless of their permanent address.

It hurts. A LOT.

I realized after the first six months or so that most people (including my family) didn’t know HOW to talk about my missing son.

So I began modeling it for them: I spoke of memories in past tense as I would for anyone, I spoke of character traits in present tense– because he is still all that plus some in Heaven-and I refused to ignore the elephant in the room.

I told them it was impossible to make me sadder by mentioning Dominic but it was very possible to make my burden heavier by NOT mentioning him. They were not reminding me that he was gone, I breathe his absence in and out like oxygen all day long.

I know it seems unfair that we must simultaneously learn by (awful and heartbreaking!) experience and also educate those around us, but it is what it is.

If I’m honest, though, before Dominic ran ahead to heaven I didn’t really know how to talk about a young person who died. It’s natural to reminisce about Grandmama’s favorite recipe or the old-fashioned way she did her hair. It’s positively Unnatural to speak in past tense about a young, vibrant human being that you never expected to outlive.

There are always going to be some folks-even family-who cannot or will not speak about my child in Heaven.

I can’t force them to do it.

But I can encourage the ones who do by telling them what a beautiful gift it is to hear his name on their lips.

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: