child loss – Page 40 – thelifeididntchoose

Surviving the Unthinkable: Grief and Self-Care

My first instinct as a mother and a shepherd is always, “How can I help?”

I routinely set aside my own needs for the needs of others. Not because I’m so selfless but because that’s how I’m made-I’ve always had the heart of a caretaker.

That’s not a bad thing, most of the time.

But if taking care of others means NOT taking care of myself, then in the end, I’m of no use to anyone. When I allow every bit of energy-emotional, physical, psychological and spiritual-to drain away until there’s nothing left, I am unable to meet my most basic needs, much less the needs of others.

Read the rest here: Grief and Self-Care: Surviving the Unthinkable

Time, By Itself, Does NOT Heal All Wounds

Time, by itself, does not heal the pain of child loss.

But time, plus the work grief requires, plus God’s grace poured out on my heart and in my life, does bring a measure of healing.

I did not believe that in the first months or even years. But I can testify to that truth today. It has been a slow and very painful process full of stops and starts, one step forward, two steps back.

Am I still very broken?

Absolutely!

Am I still limping?

YES!

Until the day I die I will never be the same.

But I have grown stronger and better able to carry this load of sorrow and God is helping me turn the ashes into something beautiful.

That something bears witness to my son, to my pain and to the truth that, with God’s help, I can endure faithfully to the end.

And God is no respecter of persons-He has not given me anything He will not pour out on every single heart that asks.

My prayer for each wounded reader is that you will feel the Father’s loving arms around you and that He will flood your broken heart with His grace, mercy and comfort.

❤

The Power and Peril of Story

I went to see The Greatest Showman a few years ago with my daughter. It was an amazing film-I was drawn into the story and my heart longed to see where it was going and how it would end.

I highly recommend it for two hours of uplifting entertainment.

But it got me thinking.

So I did a little digging into P.T. Barnum’s REAL life story.

As you might imagine, several liberties were taken with actual history in order to create what I saw on the screen. That’s really just fine. I knew what I was getting into when I plunked my money down for the ticket. I had no illusion that I was walking into a history lecture- I understood I was there to be entertained.

When I compared the actual Barnum life story to the tidy, beautiful, uplifting and wonderfully scored musical I had seen in the theater, I found gaping holes.

And most of the holes involved the hard and ugly parts of his story-the parts people don’t like to talk about, much less live through.

While leaving them out or glossing them over with a moment or two of wistful glances for the movie is exactly what I expect from Hollywood, it can condition hearts to expect the same kind of thing in real life.

But real life stories don’t skip over the hard parts.

Real people have to live through the ugly and the painful and the devastating and the doubt and the sorrow. We don’t get to hop right to the happy ending (if there even IS a happy ending) nor do we get to whitewash the dark truths that inform our experience.

And because we prefer tidy (and happy) endings, bright and sunny days, encouraging and uplifting stories, when we are face to face with a challenging and difficult reality, we often turn away.

If we don’t hear it, it doesn’t matter.

If we don’t look, it didn’t happen.

If we wait long enough in our safe cocoon, someone else will deal with it.

Sometimes those of us in the middle of hard stories try to ignore it. But busyness and distraction do not make bad times better. Maybe for a moment, but not in the long run.

We’ve got to learn to experience it all, tell it all, be honest about how dark the path, how difficult the journey.

And those who are on the sunny side of the street need to learn to lean into friendship, cross over and offer compassionate companionship to those who are struggling.

Because sooner or later, it will be all of us.

we will all struggle and fall brene brown

Our Hearts are Home Spring Conference: Won’t You Join Me?

It took me a long time before I wanted to gather in a room with other bereaved parents.

My son’s death had undone me and I had no capacity for other people’s raw grief where I might not have an escape.

I wish I hadn’t been so reluctant and waited so long because what I found when I finally walked into the in-person community of other moms and dads who shared my loss, it was life giving, uplifting and utterly amazing.

So I want to extend an invitation to fellow broken hearts who hope for hope:

WHO? Bereaved parent & grandparents, and anyone who wants to better know how to comfort a grieving friend

WHAT? Our Hearts Are Home Spring Conference

WHEN? April 25-26, 2025

WHERE? Online or In Person

(If you can’t come on those days, you’ll receive all of the session recordings that remain available for two weeks following the conference.)

Read the session details and register at: https://ourheartsarehome.org/spring-conference

I’ll be sharing in a main sessions and participating in breakout sessions. AND there will be many opportunities to chat informally around meals and other unstructured times.

This is NOT your typical “Christian Conference” where what’s shared is memorized and rehashed in city after city. This is a unique opportunity to interact with parents who are walking the same broken road as you and are willing to reveal the ups and downs, ins and outs of navigating child loss. (My husband will be there too, bereaved dads!)

The cost is minimal although I know travel expenses may make attending in person out of the question for some of y’all. (Online option available!)

I would LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to meet (in the flesh!) anyone who has joined me here online.

You have no idea how often your words of encouragement have helped me hold onto hope.

So if you can, join us.

You may be nervous up to the very minute you show up or log on but I PROMISE you will not regret it.

See you there!

Called to Love and Serve

We just moved through the feel-good season of Christmas where we look with awe on baby Jesus, cute and cuddly in swaddling clothes, surrounded by His loving parents.

But what most moderns miss is that even in His birth, His death was foretold.

The manger was most likely hewn from stone, as was His tomb. And while the wise men’s gifts were costly and appropriate, they not only spoke of His kingship, they also included myrrh which was used for embalming the dead.

Jesus came to live so that He could die.

Both His life and his death are models for my own.

Every day of ministry was a day of self-denial-a pouring out of life onto and into the ones He came to serve.

And if anyone-if ANY. ONE.-could have lifted Himself above those who presented their brokenness like offerings at His feet, He certainly could. Not only was He without sin, He was God Himself in the flesh.

But look how gently Jesus welcomed the lost and lonely. See the compassion of the Good Shepherd for His confused sheep. Notice the love and kindness as He gathered the children around Him.

THIS is my example.

I am most certainly not above my Master.

I am called to love and serve as He did-not in a condescending way that says, “I am helping you because I am better than you.” But in a way that says, “I am helping you because I AM you.”

I have nothing I did not receive. I have nothing to give except from the bounty of my Lord.

My heart is just as broken as the next heart.

We all need His touch.

Wounded Faith

It is possible to go through life without having to question your faith.

But I’m not sure that is a good thing.

Although I would never, ever have chosen this path, child loss has forced me to entertain questions I might have ignored and to dig deeper than I might otherwise have done if life had been easier and less challenging.

My faith is not blind faith.

My faith is not unchallenged faith.

I am facing the fact that terrible things happen even to those who love and trust God. I will not parrot empty phrases that promise smooth sailing to new converts if they will “only turn their lives over to Jesus”.

I don’t even know where we get that idea. Every single disciple was martyred except John and he was boiled in oil and exiled to the Isle of Patmos.

There are faithful believers starving TODAY, dying TODAY and suffering TODAY.

Why should I be exempt?

‘No heart is as whole as a broken heart.’ And I paraphrase it differently: No faith is as pure as a wounded faith because it is faith with an open eye. I know all the elements of the situation; I know all the reasons why I shouldn’t have faith. I have better arguments against faith than for faith. Sure, it’s a choice. And I choose faith.

~Elie Wiesel

Dear One, You Are Braver Than You Think

Child loss is not the only devastating life circumstance that can make a person want to hide in bed.

Every single day, broken hearts, broken bodies and limping spirits open their eyes to the dawn and choose to get up and get going.

If that is you, I want you to know this:

You are strong.

You are brave.

You are not invisible.

You may never be recognized in this life for the heroic struggle you face every day but it counts.

Endurance is triumph.

Perseverance is conquest.

Choosing brave in the face of fear is victory.

fear is what we feel brave is what we do

I Can Choose to Step Back and Not React

It is possible not to react to every single thing someone says or does. It is possible to scroll past social media posts that get under your skin and not look back. It is possible to ignore a snarky comment or an unhelpful piece of advice from someone who ACTS like they know what you’re going through but really has. no. idea.

Now if you are new on this journey, you will read these first few lines and think, “Is this woman crazy????”

I felt EXACTLY the same way in the first months and even through the first couple years in this Valley.

But, I will tell you this: the sooner you can embrace the habit of practicing the pause, the sooner you will begin to feel like you have some control in your world again.

And isn’t that one of the things we crave after the tsunami of child loss sweeps over our lives-order, control, a sense of purpose and direction?

It’s hard.

Really, really hard not to react against every arrow shot into my wounded heart. Even when I know it was an accident and the offense is collateral damage, it still hurts.

But I’ve found that if I just take a single, deep breath I can put a bit of distance between the oomph of the impact and my reaction. And there is actually power in choosing to ignore offense.

Because then I am in control, not the person lobbing the arrows.

So what do I do in the split-second it takes to draw in that preparatory breath? I consider the source. I think (quickly) about my ongoing relationship with this person, what’s happening in THEIR life and why they might have said or done what they said or did.

Is it ignorance? Is it sloppy choice of words? Is it due to stress in his life? Is she just worn out and not thinking?

And I decide: is reacting to THIS particular exchange worth damaging the relationship?

Is it worth the negative emotional energy that I will have to expend?

Is it something I can overlook and move past?

Most of the time the answer is, “yes”. I CAN let it go. It’s not that big of a deal. It is not a fair representation of our relationship and it is certainly not worth ruining a friendship.

I’m not just doing THEM a favor. I’m doing ME a favor.

I’m not “letting them off the hook”. I may actually revisit the issue later on, when emotions aren’t running high.

But I have learned that I only have so much emotional energy to expend in this Valley. So much of it is already absorbed in carrying the missing and sorrow and reining in my own outrageous feelings that I just don’t need to waste the rest on trivial things.

So I don’t (most of the time).

Practicing the pause helps me do that.

It gives me control.

There is far too little of that this side of child loss.

So I will take what I can get.

Facing Another New Year: A Prayer for Hurting Hearts

Some of us enter trembling through the door of a new year.

This last year wasn’t so good and our hearts are broken.

What if the next year is worse? How will we manage? Where can we hide from bad news, bad outcomes, disastrous trauma?

Truth is, we can’t.

So here we are, bravely marching in, hanging on to hope and begging God for mercy.

Read the rest here: New Year’s Prayer for Hurting Hearts

New Year’s Eve 2024: Auld Lang Syne

We don’t know what tomorrow will bring. We plot and plan and hope and dream but in the end we have very little control over how our story ultimately plays out.

So we are left each New Year’s Eve with some good memories, some not so good ones and some we cling to like gold from a treasure chest because they are all we have.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and days of auld lang syne?

Never.

Read the rest here: New Year’s Eve and Auld Lang Syne

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