I need to remind my heart on a regular basis that grace covers it all-every mistake, every sin, every need, every. single. thing.
Because if it doesn’t, then it’s not grace at all.
So here are some of my favorite quotes about grace.
They help me hang on when my heart wants to let go.
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2018/12/28/grace-quotes/
Many years ago my grandparents had a lovely Fiftieth Anniversary Celebration with family and friends.
My dad videotaped it and the tape was full of fun moments where my grandmother was smiling, laughing and having a wonderful day.
It was a short time afterward that she began to show signs of dementia and not very long after that she left us.
We watched the videotape a year or two after her leaving and I thought, “What a mercy she didn’t know what was coming!”
Those moments were full of unadulterated joy because a sorrowful future was hidden from her heart.
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2016/11/29/i-dont-want-to-see-the-future/
Just a couple of days before Dominic left us, I and another one of my kids had a fuss.
He was frustrated and stressed and I was vulnerable and stressed and a few stray words ended up hurting my feelings.
I said, “I can’t talk anymore now”, and hung up the phone in tears.
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2016/10/27/speak-your-peace/
Looking back I’m shocked at how much I allowed societal norms and expectations to determine how I grieved Dominic’s death.
I withheld grace from myself that I would have gladly and freely given to another heart who just buried a child. Somehow I thought I had to soldier on in spite of the unbearable sorrow, pain, horror and worldview shattering loss I was enduring.
And the further I got from the date of his accident, the more I expected from myself.
I wrote lists of things I needed to do and surprisingly often I actually got them done.
But I crawled into bed each night exhausted, physically and emotionally drained and often unable to sleep for all the pent up feelings I still needed to process.
It was a dangerous cycle.
Eventually, through contact with other bereaved parents I learned that I absolutely, positively HAD to take care of myself. If I didn’t, there wouldn’t be a me to take care of.
And my family would be plunged beneath a new tsunami of loss.
I wasn’t going to do that to them if I could help it. So I committed to practicing better self-care on this grief journey.
I’m still not always good at it, but I’m better at it than I was.
If you are sucking it up, pushing it down, soldiering on, refusing to admit that grief takes a toll no one can ignore or deny, may I suggest you consider taking a step back and thinking about the ultimate outcome of ignoring your own needs?
Here’s a graphic to get you started.
It’s not an exhaustive list and the examples given may not suit your personality or circumstances but they should give you some ideas to find the activities and habits that will help strengthen you to do the work grief requires.
I have learned so much since that day when Dominic left us suddenly for Heaven.
Some of the things I know now are things I wish I didn’t know at all.
Many serve me well-not only in how I respond to my own pain and loss-but also how I respond to the pain and loss in the lives of those I love.
I had to practice them again when my mama was desperately ill and then joined Dominic and Jesus.
It reminded me how hard it is for those who have not walked this Valley of the Shadow of Death to really comprehend how their words and actions either truly support or subtly wound already hurting hearts.
So here’s a short list of things things to say and do that I believe actually HELP grieving friends and family:
Be attentive to body language.
Allow grievers to lead.
Don’t ignore comments that indicate it’s time to go.
Accept that what you may want to do and what is truly helpful may be two very different things.
Fewer words are almost always better than idle chatter.
Give grace.
If, as a believer in Christ, I abide in Him and am filled with His limitless love, why do I portion it out in such a miserly fashion?
I often act as though it were MY personal treasure house and that to give love freely diminishes my supply.
What foolishness!
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2017/09/16/what-does-gods-love-look-like/
I’m a kinder, gentler person than I was before Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.
It’s a high price to pay to learn to walk more grace-filled through this life.
I’ve come to find out that every heart has a story. Every heart is carrying a burden.-perhaps not the same as mine, but a burden nonetheless.
And what causes the most pain in this life (next to the burden itself) is when another person runs over my heart without thinking about the burden it may hold inside.
So I have purposed not to do that to other people.
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2018/08/29/refuse-to-cause-pain/
Today, before I sat down to write this post, I was out running errands and made a decision due to traffic to go through a parking lot I’ve avoided because of strong memories associated with Dominic.
I was suddenly overwhelmed by grief even after five years on this journey.
The tightness in my chest, tears in my eyes, empty sickness in the pit of my stomach washed over me anew.
Time absolutely does not heal a thing in child loss. It only enables me to develop skills for sublimating the horror enough to walk around among the spared.
But one thing IS better now than way back then: I’m quicker to lean into the strength and grace available to me through Christ Jesus. I’m not as resistant to the idea that my weakness is no impediment to God’s work in and through me.
I’ve stopped asking for relief and now ask for grace to bear up under the pain.
Today’s verses are taken from Paul’s pleading with God to take away what many believe to be a physical ailment-perhaps pain or weakness in his eyes-and God’s refusal to grant miraculous healing.
Three times I begged the Lord for it to leave me, but his reply has been, “My grace is enough for you: for where there is weakness, my power is shown the more completely.” Therefore, I have cheerfully made up my mind to be proud of my weaknesses, because they mean a deeper experience of the power of Christ. I can even enjoy weaknesses, suffering, privations, persecutions and difficulties for Christ’s sake. For my very weakness makes me strong in him.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10
I can imagine Paul’s conversations with the Lord.
“You know I’m really on fire for You, Lord. Don’t you think I’d be in a better position to minister if You would take this pain away? It’s distracting and, well, painful! If You will heal me, I can focus on the work You’ve sent me to do. “
~ Paul
I know it’s dangerous to put words in God’s mouth but I imagine (based on Paul’s own account) that God answered something like this: “Paul, you don’t understand that part of the ministry I have for you is a demonstration that My strength is what sustains you. I don’t want there to be any doubt about where the power comes from. I’m not going to heal you but I will give you enough grace to bear up under this pain.”
I don’t think Paul really thought that was great idea-at least not at first. But as he continued to walk with the Lord and experience that sufficient grace, he saw God was absolutely right (no kidding!).
I can attest to this in my own life.
Before Dominic ran ahead to Heaven I was afflicted with a number of health problems that forced me to admit I was not capable of meeting every obligation to and certainly not every expectation of those around me.
I didn’t like it one single bit.
As a self-proclaimed overachiever it hurt my pride to ask for help. But God’s grace eventually worked it’s way into my heart and I learned that physical weakness was truly an opportunity to proclaim God’s provision and sufficiency.
When Dom left us, I was struck down in a whole new way.
But the grace I had learned to rely on for the strength needed to endure physical pain proved more than sufficient for even this awful heartache.
It is still enough.
God’s strength IS perfected in my weakness.
Not that my weakness makes God perfect. Instead it is my weakness that makes God’s strength undeniably and unmistakably obvious.
When I choose to reveal my brokenness, unveil my weakness and testify to God’s sustaining and enabling grace, I proclaim His sovereignty, His sufficiency and His love.
QUESTIONS:
PRAYER:
Lord, my pride makes me loathe to admit my weaknesses and to reveal my brokenness. I would rather people think I’m strong and unbreakable. But that’s just not true.
Help me embrace my own limitations and turn to You for your limitless grace and mercy. Help me quickly acknowledge that it is Your Spirit that breathes life into my heart and soul and strengthens me to carry on.
Strip me of false pride and bravado that might conceal how very much I rely on You. Make my life an open declaration of Your sufficient grace.
Amen.
You think, dear heart, that you are forgotten because of your nothingness and weakness and poverty. This is the very reason you are remembered.
Spurgeon
A precious waiting mama isn’t waiting anymore.
Eight years after her son ran ahead to Heaven, she’s joined him.
And I have to think that the step from earth to Home wasn’t a huge one for her.
I have never known a kinder or gentler soul in my life. She was always encouraging other hearts, always pointing others to the hope we have in Jesus.
She never preached, she simply extended grace and love that made it absolutely impossible for anyone to ignore the difference between her and most other folks.
I only met this sweet mama once face-to-face when she and a couple other waiting mamas came all the way to my house for lunch and an afternoon of sharing and encouragement. But our friendship continued long distance through Facebook and private messages.
Our mutual love of Jesus, children and children’s books wove our hearts together in so many ways.
I am convinced that the distance between her heart and Heaven is so short because she was already singing Heaven’s Song here on earth-calling grace, mercy, strength and hope to every heart she met.
I thank God for the privilege of knowing her and am looking forward even more to that Day when everything is redeemed, restored and renewed.
Rest well, faithful servant. Dance in the joy of your Savior. Hug your son. Revel in faith made sight.
We’ll be there soon. ❤
Let the beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders.
Deuteronomy 33:12
I’ll confess right here on the world wide web that I tend to go along to get along.
It’s a terrible and odd twist that the son who always encouraged me to speak up for myself has accomplished his goal by his absence.
Since Dominic left for Heaven I’m learning to ask questions I’d never dare ask before.
When someone does something or doesn’t do something, instead of assuming motives or assigning blame, I ask them why. It doesn’t always end well, but it’s worth the risk.
Most of the time I find the person has anticipated (often mistakenly) that his or her behavior, choices or words are helpful. Truly, family and friends are not usually out to hurt my heart.
Now, I admit in the beginning I didn’t care whether it was accidental or purposeful. I was already so burdened that any additional stress or strain was more than I could bear. I wanted people to put themselves in my shoes.
Truth is, they can’t.
All the times I IMAGINED what it might feel like to have a child run ahead to Heaven didn’t even come close to how it actually felt. All the scripts that played in my head when someone was late checking in, coming home or assuring me of safe arrival when traveling can’t hold a candle to the REALITY of a son never ever coming home again.
It’s not fair (but what about child loss IS fair?) that I have to educate others as I’m learning myself.
It’s simply reality.
I liken it to being forced to lead in a dance I don’t know to music I can’t stand to hear.
So I ask.
And I’m often surprised by the answers.
In utter innocence and genuine sympathy some friends and family make decisions they honestly think are good ones.
None of us has a road map for this journey-neither we who travel the road nor those who walk alongside us. It’s uncharted territory.
I would rather err on the side of love and grace then build walls between my heart and the ones I have left here on earth.
Sure it hurts.
But most things this side of child loss do.
I refuse to sacrifice relationship on the altar of grief.
thelifeididntchoose 