Here’s Something to Hold On To When You Feel Like Letting Go

I have to talk to myself all the time.

Literally.

There are some mornings I open my eyes and would do just about anything to be able to stay in bed, hide under the covers and wish the day away.

But I can’t.

So I recite truth until my heart can hear it.  I speak courage to my own spirit.

If you are feeling weak and weary today, may I share a few of my favorites?

Read the rest here: Something to Hold On To When You Feel Like Letting Go

Grief Work Video Notes and Outline

Here is a post that accompanies the video presentation on GRIEF WORK I shared yesterday.

If you missed that post, you can find it here: Grief Work: A Video.

If you haven’t watched the video and plan to, this outline can help you make the most of your time.

If you’ve already watched it and were overwhelmed with the amount of information shared, you can use the outline to organize your own thoughts as you reflect on the content.

❤ Melanie

Child loss is not simply an event that happens at a moment in time. 

It is an ongoing, devastating experience that shatters our hearts, our relationships and our worldview.  It impacts the remotest corners of life in ways we certainly don’t understand nor anticipate in the first hours, days and weeks.  Processing child loss demands time, energy just when we have the least of those resources to expend on anything. 

That’s why I call it “work”. 

How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand… there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep, that have taken hold.

Frodo, Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien

I use “grief work” to mean all the ways I (and others) must actively seek to identify, face, process, and ultimately incorporate the feelings, trauma and changes loss force upon us.  ways. 

It is exhausting. 

It DOES get better though.  I promise. 

It gets manageable faster when broken hearts don’t try to run away, numb or distract themselves from the challenge.  Grief will not be ignored or stuffed forever. It leaks out somewhere. 

When we refuse to do the work grief requires, we delay healing. 

Grief Work can be understood best when we consider it within the context of relationship: 

  • Relationship with ourselves;
  • Relationship with others (including our missing child);
  • and Relationship with God. 

And I believe the work is best done when we set aside time, designate space and give ourselves and others grace in the process.

RELATIONSHIP WITH SELF

Nonbereaved parents (maybe us in the BEFORE) sometimes joke that their only job is to keep their kid alive.  Even if we’ve never said so aloud, many of us had days when we counted it joy that we came to bedtime and had successfully navigated potentially harmful obstacles with our children. 

It’s a horrifying shock to our core identity as a parent when one day that’s no longer true.  We begin to doubt all kinds of things about who we thought we were.  It takes great effort, courage, energy and lots and lots of time to examine and ultimately integrate these changes. 

I find it useful to think about the process in several stages that often occur simultaneously and repeatedly:

  • Identify the Feelings
  • Acknowledge the Losses
  • Admit the Trauma
  • Face and Integrate the Changes

RELATIONSHIP WITH OTHERS

So much of life revolves around our relationships with other people-family, friends, coworkers, people we go to church with and even the cashier in the grocery store.  A day can be made better or made awful because of stray words, intentional or unintentional conflict, smiles, frowns and kind gestures or funny stories. 

There are so many ways child loss affects how we walk in the world and it absolutely impacts our relationships to those we love as well as those we simply bump into.

Perhaps most dramatically, it challenges and changes how we relate to our child in Heaven. 

What kind of work is required to move forward in this new reality as a spouse, parent, child, employee and member of the community?

  • Family-Including Our Missing Child(ren)
  • Friends
  • Community
  • The Greater World

RELATIONSHIP WITH GOD

It is common for Jesus following bereaved parents to identify with Christ’s words on the cross, “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me!”.  Or David’s cry, “How long, O LORD?  Will you forget me forever?  How long will you hide your face from me?”.

Some describe their feelings (especially early into this journey) as anger.  Others say they felt deserted.  I say I was disappointed. 

We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.

~C.S. Lewis, A GRIEF OBSERVED

Learning to hold the truth that this life is painful and the truth that God is sovereign and loving in the same heart is probably the most difficult work I’ve done in this journey. 

It required me to do four things:

  • Admit the Pain
  • Acknowledge Doubt and Ask Questions
  • Access the Truth
  • Appropriate God’s Strength

CONCLUSION

Much of this process is organic and different tasks, challenges and seasons present themselves as a natural outgrowth of time and experience. 

It’s definitely not something you can rush. 

I’ve always said that time does NOT heal all wounds.  But there is no substitute for TIME. 

That’s why you must set aside time to do this work. 

It may be stolen moments for those of you with busy households and demanding jobs.  It may be quiet mornings or silent evenings for those who have more margin in daily life.  It might be a weekly getaway if you live with lots of people and have a difficult time turning down the noise of electronics or incessant “to do” lists in your head.  But you MUST find time to sit with yourself, to listen to your heart and to hear from God. 



You will have to carve out or find safe spaces and find safe people. 

Sometimes it means seeking professional help from a counselor or therapist.

Sometimes it’s a friend or two who choose to walk compassionately alongside and who withhold comment and judgement about things they don’t really understand.  They are a valuable sounding board for the stories we need to tell over and over and over as we strive mightily to make sense again of a world turned upside down. 

Online and in person bereaved parent support groups are wonderful!  That is where I learned the language of loss.  It’s where my experience was validated and I was assured that everything I was feeling was absolutely, positively NORMAL

Seek them out. 



Finally, this journey requires SO. MUCH. GRACE! For yourself and for others. 

I call grace the grease for the wheels of relationship.  You are definitely going to disappoint and frustrate yourself and folks you come in contact with.  They, in turn, are going to step on your toes and on your feelings. 

This is uncharted territory for all but the previously initiated and it’s rough going, my friend. 

Try to always assume the best and practice compassion. 

If you can’t muster it, then choose retreat until you are stronger and more equipped to have that difficult conversation or encounter.  But don’t stop communicating.  At least say, “Hey, I am not in a place to talk about this right now.  I’ll let you know when I’m able.” 

No one knows what’s in your heart and mind but you and Jesus.  Give the folks around you a break. 

I am more whole, more at peace and more capable of participating in the life I have while acknowledging and integrating the life I didn’t choose than I was even two years ago.  

My faith is intact. 

My family is learning, loving and living together. 

I don’t fall so deeply into the well of despair as I once did and when I do I can scramble back out again. 

I am not unique or special.  God loves you too.  He will, if you allow Him, bring hope and healing to your heart as well. 

When we dream with God, our dreams-even in burial-are not lost; they are planted. God never forgets the ‘kernel of wheat [that] falls to the ground and dies’ (John 12:24).

What grows from that painful planting is God’s business. But sowing in faith is ours and, like the early disciples, our faithfulness is never sown in vain.

~Alicia Britt Chole, 40 DAYS OF DECREASE


Here’s How You Can Love a Grieving Heart

Part of the reason I share my story is to provide insight for people who haven’t lost a child into the hearts and lives of those who have.

But mainly it is to be a voice for and to encourage other parents walking this valley by letting them know they aren’t alone, their feelings and experiences are perfectly normal and that just as welcoming a child into your family is a life-altering event, saying good-bye to a child is a life-altering event. 

We do not expect a mom to “get over” the changes having a baby brings to her everyday experience, and we should not expect a  bereaved mom to “get over” the changes burying one brings either.

Want to help?  Read:  Loving the Grieving Heart

Grief Journey: Why I Say, “My Son Died.”

Died.  

It is a harsh word.

I understand completely that some parents don’t want to use it to describe their child and I respect that.

I have chosen to use it often (not always-sometimes I say “left” or “ran ahead to heaven”) because what happened IS harsh. I don’t want to soften it because there was nothing soft about it for me or my family.

Read the rest here: Why I Say, “My Son Died.”

Grief Journey: There Was Jesus

In the waiting, in the searching

In the healing and the hurting

Like a blessing buried in the broken pieces

Every minute, every moment

Where I’ve been and where I’m going

Even when I didn’t know it or couldn’t see it

There was Jesus

~Jonathan Smith/Casey Beathard/Zach Williams, “There Was Jesus”

Songs reach places in my heart that words alone can never touch.

Read the rest here: Every Minute, Every Moment There Was Jesus

Grief Journey: Baking Hope

When I have a rainy day-whether it is literally dripping water from the sky or simply dripping tears from my eyes-I try to do something that will help my heart hold on.

Often I turn to baking.

There is hardly a more satisfying moment than when I pull a perfectly formed loaf of bread or cake or muffins from the oven.

I never get tired of the magic that occurs when you mix the right amount of flour, eggs, sugar and leavening to produce a beautiful edible gift of love.

Read the rest here: Baking Hope

Grief Journey: Broken Vessel, Mighty God

A few years ago I was asked by a precious fellow bereaved mama to write a guest post for a new and exciting ministry her family is launching in honor of their son, Rhett.

It was an interesting and challenging assignment to create a single entry that might give enough background to make my voice an authentic source of hope based on shared experience.

I spent over a week working it out but settled on what you have below: The essence of my story is I am a broken, fragile vessel whom God chooses to use to share His light, life and hope in a world full of searching hearts.

Child loss is MY cross. Yours may be something else.

But our great and faithful Lord can and will use us, if we let Him.

❤ Melanie

“But this beautiful treasure is contained in us—cracked pots made of earth and clay—so that the transcendent character of this power will be clearly seen as coming from God and not from us. We are cracked and chipped from our afflictions on all sides, but we are not crushed by them. We are bewildered at times, but we do not give in to despair. We are persecuted, but we have not been abandoned. We have been knocked down, but we are not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our bodies the reality of the brutal death and suffering of Jesus. As a result, His resurrection life rises and reveals its wondrous power in our bodies as well. “

~2 Corinthians 4:7-10 VOICE

As a young mother of four stairstep children I copied out these verses and taped them to my bathroom mirror for encouragement.

Read the rest here: Fragile Vessel, Mighty God

Truth: Even the Worst Day of My Life Only Lasted 24 Hours

It’s been just over ten years since Dominic left us suddenly, unexpectedly, and without warning.

Thankfully my heart has healed enough that every day is no longer filled with tears.

But there are still hard days, still challenging seasons.

And when they feel like they might last forever, I remind myself that even the worst day of my life was just twenty-four hours.

Night fell, the earth turned, and another sunrise showed up on cue.

I don’t know just when I figured it out, but somewhere in this Valley it dawned on me-NO day lasts forever.

Many feel like they do.  

The day I got the news stretched impossibly long in front of me as calls were made and people came to be wtih us.

But even THAT day ended.  Night fell, the earth turned, and another sunrise showed up on cue.

Read the rest here: Twenty-four Hours

Ten Years: Remembering the Last Day Before It All Fell Apart

I fell asleep last night thinking about that Friday evening ten years ago when I closed my eyes on the world I knew only to open them to a world I wish I could forget.

It’s odd how these anniversaries play out-there’s the actual date (which, if I’m honest isn’t usually nearly as hard for me) plus the litany of days that lead up to the date and reconstruct the weekend that ended in tragedy.

The Friday night/Saturday morning combination bring me to my knees even ten years later.

Only someone who has endured the doorbell or the phone call can truly understand how dozens of tiny prompts create a mental, physical and emotional response that can neither be ignored nor controlled.

Every year is different. Every year brings more recent memories that don’t include Dominic intermingled with what now feel like ancient ones.

Every year has new challenges to face with a worn out heart that sometimes simply wants to fall asleep and dream it all away.

❤ Melanie

Friday, April 11, 2014:

Julian and I went to a college honors banquet and came back to the house to find Fiona home for the weekend.  I called Hector and texted with James Michael.

I turned out the light and went to sleep.  

No warning shots across the bow of life rang out to let me know what was coming.

But that Friday was the last day I spent misunderstanding the awfulness of death and the absolute uncertainty of life.

Read the rest here: The Day Before It All Fell Apart

My Shepherd King

I’m so thankful for this truth.

I had a large goat and sheep herd for over 20 years. In that time I learned a great deal about a shepherd’s heart.

I was privileged to lead, feed and protect the creatures in my care. More than once, a lamb who was near death or an older animal, injured and despairing, was nursed back to vibrancy with tender care and attention.

My favorite way to picture Jesús is as my Shepherd King.

He is the Shepherd whose heart is always for me, whose love is perfect and my King who is supremely able and powerful to work His will in my life.

If even the idea of hope has long vanished, precious heart, lean into Him.

He will carry you until you find it again.