This is the eleventh Christmas without Dominic. There really are no words to describe the intersection of holiday cheer and another milestone in this journey of child loss.
I’m not sad all the time-far from it. Often I am very, very happy.
But I will never stop missing him, missing the family we used to be and missing our blissful ignorance of how quickly and utterly life can change in an instant.
And I will never outgrow the need to have others remember him as well, to encourage my heart and the hearts of my family members and to help us make it through another year, another Christmas.
Today’s verses may seem an odd choice as a stand-alone source for an Advent devotional.
But when you dig a little deeper, they are a beautiful affirmation of how God used ordinary people to bring about His extraordinary purposes.
Zechariah and Elizabeth were two humble and obedient Jews living their lives according to the Law. As a priest, Zechariah was responsible to serve in the Temple two weeks of every year. He’d been faithfully doing his duty for years. Elizabeth had done hers too.
But they were fruitless. Elizabeth was barren. And barren women (in those days) were considered cursed.
Sometimes it’s hard to gauge effectively and objectively how I’m really doing.
Living inside my own head often obscures tell-tale signs that maybe I’m not coping as well as I think I am.
So I depend on feedback from friends and family as an early warning safety system.
But many of us are physically isolated from others who might otherwise help us discern when we need help. A heart can fall fast into a deep pit of despair without realizing it.
At the time all I could manage (barely!) was the twenty-four hours of each long, lonely and pain-wracked day.
After nine-plus years I’ve learned to look ahead, plan ahead and forge ahead to birthdays, holidays, special days and not-so-special days.
But it takes a great deal of effort and often uncomfortable conversations because no matter how long it’s been, I’m still dragging loss and its after affects behind me.
I wrote this in 2016 when I was desperate to communicate how hard it is to try to marry joy and sorrow, celebration and commemoration, light, love, life and darkness, grief and death.
But one thing I’m learning in this new and sometimes scary world of “official” ministry is this: People don’t know what you don’t share with them.
So today, in honor of Giving Tuesday, I’m sharing again both how the Lord led me to expand what I’ve been doing for the past nearly ten years into something bigger, more far reaching and definitely more challenging AND how you can be part of it.
If you would like to join me in reaching bereaved parents with the light, love and life of Christ, you can do so through this link:
Thank you to those who have already encouraged my heart by giving.
Your choice to invest in spreading hope and light to hurting parents will have eternal consequences.
If you missed the original post introducing the ministry back in August, here it is:
It’s still dark here.
The days are getting perceptibly shorter for those of us tuned in to the turning of the earth and the passing of the seasons.
But the light is coming. It always does.
And that is what I have clung to in these more-than-ten years since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.That’s what compels me to write.
I want every hurting heart to know that the night doesn’t last forever.
It’s also why today I have something exciting (and scary, if I’m honest!) to tell you: I’ve created an official ministry for the work I do here and on Facebook through Heartache and Hope (https://www.facebook.com/heartacheandhope/).
The Lord planted a vision in my heart awhile ago to expand into new territory.
I am a quiet person who longs only to stay (mostly) in my home and surrounding area. I once loved traveling but now only really enjoy it in the company of family to low-key destinations that afford plenty of space and natural beauty. But I am stepping out into uncomfortable places and trusting my Shepherd King to provide the means and direction to journey on.
I’m not one to appropriate Old Testament verses to justify current choices but I do absolutely believe that He nudges us to spread out and to reach further than we might choose to do in our flesh.
So, like Jabez, I pray:
Oh that You would bless me indeed and enlarge my territory! Let Your hand be with me, and keep me from the evil one.”
Waiting to grow up. Waiting to get married. Waiting to have children. Waiting for our children to grow up.
Always looking toward the next big thing.
Israel waited centuries for the Messiah. Generation after generation was born, lived, and died without seeing the fulfillment of God’s promise.
I have always loved the tradition of lighting a candle and reciting Scripture to build anticipation for celebrating the birth of Jesus.The ritual forces me to slow down in the rush of holiday preparation to ponder the coming of God’s great gift.
Celebrating Advent helps me recapture that desperate hope–Israel’s longing heart for her Savior.
Since Dominic went to heaven, Advent is no longer just a seasonal celebration–it’s an attitude of my heart.
I received the blessing of Christ’s first coming-His payment-in-full of sin’s penalty and freedom from the curse of the law. I know my eternity is secure.
But I live in this fallen world where death still intrudes to take the ones I love.
So now I’m waiting with greater desperation and hope for the complete redemption and restoration of the earth God created and the people for whom Jesus died.
Every time I light a candle to drive the dark from a room I remember the faithfulness of God and His promise that no matter how dark it gets, Light is coming.
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. For those who lived in a land of deep shadows— light! sunbursts of light! You repopulated the nation, you expanded its joy. Oh, they’re so glad in your presence! Festival joy! The joy of a great celebration, sharing rich gifts and warm greetings.
thelifeididntchoose 