Without reading ahead I kind of stepped on today’s reflection. Chole describes John’s prison questions this way: “the distance between what John thought Jesus would do and what Jesus actually did was straining John’s certainty of who Jesus was.”
Oh, my! How well I can identify with this feeling!
I’ve told anyone who will listen that when Dominic was killed I dragged a lifetime of what I thought I knew and understood about God into the light of child loss. It absolutely strained my certainty of who Jesus is.
And my questions made some folks uncomfortable just as John’s question makes some Bible teachers uncomfortable.
Can I let friends and family in on a little secret?
There is probably NOTHING you can do more meaningful for a bereaved parent around the holidays than to remind him or her you remember, honor and cherish a missing son or daughter.
Tonight you have an opportunity to do just that.
Set an alarm, find a candle and light it at 7 pm local time. Take a picture and post or text it to that mom or dad.
Remembering together is powerful encouragement. Join us.
❤ Melanie
I love candles-always have.
I especially love them as the days get shorter and we creep toward the longest night of the year.
I love them more since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.
Every time I light a candle, I remind my heart that even the smallest light can chase the darkness.
When hundreds, thousands and even millions of candles are lighted together, it does more than chases darkness, it undoes it.
Sunday, December 11, 2022 is the Worldwide Candle Lighting Memorial Service (WCL) sponsored by The Compassionate Friends (TCF).
In our modern age of light switches and street lights it’s hard to imagine a world where the tiniest candle flame could lead a body to safety.
But for most of human history that was how people lived.
It’s how some still live.
So when John described Jesus as the “Light that bursts through gloom-the Light that darkness could not diminish” (John 1: 5 TPT) he’s really saying something.
This isn’t a tiny candle or smoky oil lamp barely pushing back the edges of inky night.
I confess that I am already exhausted and we are barely into December!
But I managed to drag the tree down from the attic and adorned it with the faith fortifying ornaments I’ve acquired since Dominic left us nine plus years ago.
I didn’t finish making things sparkle but I did make a dent in it.
Tomorrow is another day but tonight I will sit and savor the twinkling lights that remind me darkness doesn’t win.
❤ Melanie
It’s a question every hurting heart has to answer if you celebrate a traditional western Christmas: Will I put up a tree this year?
I had a few months of lonely travel through the Valley of the Shadow of Death before I had to answer that one.
Dominic left us at Easter, so by December I had learned that wishing didn’t make anything better nor did it make decisions disappear.
As Christmas drew near, I just could not bring down the usual decorations from the attic.
A few years ago, I had a grace-filled, heartwarming visit with another bereaved mama who came all the way from Maine just to hang out with me. And that was so, so good.
As she and I shared over coffee and tea, shopping and meals, lounging and walking we found so many ways in which our journeys have been similar even though the details are really very different.
One is this: There was a distinct moment along the way when each of us began to see light and color again in the midst of our darkness and pain and it was a turning point.
I’m not a fan of catch phrases that enter the popular lexicon and then take off into all directions.
Too often they reduce complex emotions or situations into a few words that folks find convenient to banter around in the hopes of sounding wise or “in the know” without any genuine attempt to understand what’s really going on.
But sometimes there IS a phrase that accurately summarizes choices or circumstances and is helpful in guiding a heart in the right direction.
“Do the next right thing” is one of those.
As far as I can tell, it was coined by someone (or many someones) who participated in twelve step programs (think AA) and meant that you don’t give in to the temptation to feed your addiction but instead head to a meeting or rendezvous with a sponsor or other safe person who will help you avoid falling back down the rabbit hole.
Grief is definitely a rabbit hole.
And there are lots of times I need someone or something to distract me from the siren call of despair that would lead me right back down to darkness-even eight and half years later.
So how do I manage to shake it off and move forward? It’s really pretty simple: I do the next right thing.
One day it might be getting up, making coffee and going for my morning walk. Another day it might be taking a shower, getting dressed and heading to a doctor’s appointment.
Most days it’s some form of the regular chores that have outlined my life on this piece of property for the past quarter century-feeding horses, cooking meals, tidying the house, sweeping porches, making necessary phone calls or tracking down some important piece of information we all store in the one location that will most likely be here long after I’m gone.
I’ve written before that just changing my physical position when I feel anxiety creeping up my back and taking hold of my brain can help ward off a full blown panic attack. If I’m sitting, I stand; if standing, I walk; if walking, I sit down. We are complex creatures and the body keeps the score (also a title of an excellent book!).
Feelings aren’t JUST feelings. They are neurotransmitters, muscular contraction, heart rate and blood pressure wrapped up in thoughts.
So when faced with a wall of overwhelming and cascading feelings, I do the next right thing-whatever that may be-and often find it breaks through that wall so I can see a sliver of light.
I follow that light like a candle in a cave until it leads me to a way out of the darkness.
Little by little, decision by decision, I move forward.
![Remember: Worldwide Candle Lighting Memorial Service TODAY [12.11.2022]](https://thelifeididntchoose.files.wordpress.com/2022/12/worldwide-candle-lighting-2022.jpg?w=290)
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