Little by little the physical evidence that Dominic once walked this earth beside me is fading away…
Read the rest here: When The Last Fingerprint Fades Away
Little by little the physical evidence that Dominic once walked this earth beside me is fading away…
Read the rest here: When The Last Fingerprint Fades Away
I have to keep telling myself that no matter how it looks right now, this is not the end of the story.
Every morning I’m reminded by the “Cock-a-doodle-doo!” of my early rising roosters, that the light is coming….
Read the rest here: Crowing in the Dark
The months roll by, the calendar pages turn, soon school will be back in session and you are still not here.
Sometimes I think I have figured out how to do these days that remain between now and when we will be together again.
And sometimes I realize that I haven’t.
Today is one of those days.

I miss you.
I love you.
I can’t round a corner without thinking of you and wishing this was not my life.
But it is.
So I’ll keep on keeping on. Just like you would want me to.
Just like you would do.
Even when it’s hard.
And some days it is so very hard.
One of the things I’ve been forced to embrace in the wake of child loss is that there are very few questions, experiences or feelings that are simple anymore.
Read the rest here: It’s Complicated
Think back on the most awful thing that has ever happened to you.
Does it still hurt? Do you still carry scars from where it pierced your soul and broke your heart?
Can you forget it? Really, really forget it?
Has it shaped the way you think about life and how you conduct yourself today?
Are you a different person NOW because that happened THEN?
Now magnify that to an impossibly greater degree and you might have an inkling of how child loss impacts parents and their families.
I will never “get over”, “move on”, “cease feeling sorrow” or “forget what happened”.
My son is my son as long as my heart still beats. If he were living, he would be part of my life. Death hasn’t changed that.
I am learning to live with loss, learning to bear up under its unceasing pressure and learning to carry on and keep going.
I am different than I was and different than I would have been if Dominic hadn’t left us.
But only heaven can undo this injury, only Christ in eternity can fully redeem this pain.
C
For in grief nothing “stays put.” One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral?
But if a spiral, am I going up or down it?
How often — will it be for always? — how often will the vast emptiness astonish me like a complete novelty and make me say, “I never realized my loss till this moment”? The same leg is cut off time after time.
C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed
No matter how tightly I strap on my armor, grief sends arrows through the tiniest unprotected chink and pierces my heart.
Read the rest of this post here: Not as Strong as I Look
I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve heard or read bereaved parents second-guessing themselves. They say or write: “I know you’re not supposed to ask ‘why?'”
Baloney! The Psalms are FILLED with “Why God?”
Questions are where the rubber meets the road in the Christian life.
Questions are where I learn to submit my heart to the lordship of a God Who loves me and Who has a perfect plan even when all I can see is pain.
Questions are the way I weed my garden of faith-they force me to choose between trust and doubt.
“There are those who say faith means you never doubt. Those who live by the creed, ‘Don’t ask questions!’
But I say faith is exactly what you cling to in the margins of doubt–when you have exhausted all the possibilities that exist in the physical, you-can-touch-it world and yet you KNOW there is MORE”
Read the rest of this post here:Debate and Faith
In the first days and months after Dominic left us I copied this verse dozens of times-in my journal, on notecards, on posterboard to plaster across the refrigerator and stick on mirrors and doorposts.
I had to remind my heart that even death could not separate my son from Him.
That even the most wily schemes of the enemy could not rip me from the hand of my Savior and that even my own doubts or fears or questions were not stronger than God’s love through Christ to hem me in and keep me safe within the confines of His protection from eternal damnation.
God’s Word is living and active.
It is part of my inheritance in Christ Jesus and I can appropriate it for my own life. When I am afraid and when I doubt, I try to repeat truth until my heart can hear it:
“If God is for [Melanie and Dominic] who can be against us?
32 He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for [Melanie and Dominic]—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give [Melanie and Dominic] all things?
33 Who will bring any charge against [Melanie and Dominic] whom God has chosen?
It is God who justifies. 34 Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.
35 Who shall separate [Melanie or Dominic] from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?
37 No, in all these things [Melanie and Dominic] are more than conquerors through him who loved us.
38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate [Melanie or Dominic] from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Romans 8: 31b-35,37-39 NIV

In the wake of burying Dominic, the most difficult spiritual discipline for me to recover has been prayer.
In part because my heart just doesn’t know what to ask for or how to talk to a God Who has allowed this pain in my life.
In part because I don’t really have a framework for placing the prayers I want to pray inside my ongoing struggle to commit my future and the future of my family to the hands of a Father Who didn’t step in to prevent Dominic’s death.
I still struggle with this.
“When it’s not your kid you can think of all kinds of lofty, theologically correct arguments or reasons for why God answers one prayer and not another–for why one person is healed and not another–for why one person survives a devastating-should-have-killed-him accident but not another.
But when it is your child that doesn’t survive or isn’t healed or is stolen through the violent actions of someone else…well, that’s a different matter entirely.”
Read the rest of this post here: The Problem of [Un]Answered Prayer
Growing up digesting Disney fairy tales can warp your sense of reality.
There are no unblemished princes or perfect princesses out there. The bad guys don’t always get what they deserve and the good guys don’t always win.
At least not here on earth.
Read the rest here: Messy Lives, Merciful Savior