Love – Page 62 – thelifeididntchoose

And If Not, He’s Still God.

It’s a hard, hard lesson to learn.

It’s even harder to carry it like a precious burden in the bosom of your heart.

Because while it is oh, so true, it does not take away the pain when circumstances just don’t change no matter how hard you pray, how long you endure or how much you wish they would.

God’s ways are not my ways. His thoughts are not my thoughts. He is not required to fit into whatever box I wish to place Him.

I came to child loss with what I thought was a pretty good understanding of Scripture, of theology and of Who God is.

What I realized was that no matter how much HEAD knowledge I had, it was only HEART knowledge that could sustain me in the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

He [Christ] said not, ‘Thou shalt not be tempested, thou shalt not be trevailed, thou shalt not be dis-eased,’ but He said, ‘Thou shalt not be overcome.

•Julian of Norwich•

Some people live lives that make sense. They connect the dots-even of the hard and tragic things-into a picture that looks like something. They emerge from the ashes like a phoenix, wings outspread in victory and rising to new heights.

Not me.

I can’t figure out what God is doing with my life.

I don’t feel victorious.

Mostly I feel tired.

But I am absolutely convinced that God loves me and that He is doing SOMETHING. What that is and how He is doing it are hidden from me.

I don’t understand.

I can’t trace His hand.

But I trust His heart.

If there is anywhere on earth a lover of God who is always kept safe, I know nothing of it, for it was not shown to me. But this was shown: that in falling and rising again we are always kept in that same precious love.

•Julian of Norwich•

Repost: Being There-No Substitute for Showing Up

I totally get it–we are ALL so busy.

Calendars crammed weeks and months in advance and no white space left over to pencil in lunch with a friend even though we desperately NEED it.

It seems impossible to make that call, write that note or stop by and visit a few minutes.

How can I meet my obligations if I use precious time doing the optional?

But when the unexpected, unimaginable and awful happens, suddenly that calendar and all those appointments don’t matter.

Balls drop everywhere and I don’t care.

Read the rest here: Being There: No Substitute For Showing Up

A Shepherd’s Heart

If you’ve read even a few of my posts you know that I have a small flock/herd of sheep and goats.

I have learned firsthand why God called His most capable leaders from among shepherds. It’s a tough job and often a thankless job.

But it molds a heart of love and compassion in ways no other work can do.

The Twenty-third Psalm isn’t just words to me, it’s my life:

One night, as I went to close the gate to the goat pen, I noticed an older doe was missing-I didn’t have to do a head count, I just looked at the herd and could tell someone wasn’t there.

Sure enough, Bella hadn’t made it back from afternoon foraging.

I hollered out to my son and, flashlights in hand, we went looking for her. We were pretty certain she must have been knocked down and was unable to get up. Goats can get kind of pushy if there is a particularly tasty bit of browse and often butt one another.

After exploring all the usual places, he going one way and me another, he found her.

Yep, down and helpless.

In the edge of the woods.

Where, if we left her, she would be dead come morning.

So he carried her back to the pen (not an easy task with a full-grown goat!).

Why? Because that’s what shepherds DO.

They tend the herd and flock. They don’t rest until every one is accounted for.

And it’s what God calls HIS shepherds to do as well: know the flock, feed the flock, go out in the dark and the briers and find the missing one.

Not to rest satisfied that they will somehow find their own way home.

I am thankful for Jesus, the Good Shepherd, the Perfect Shepherd.

We who follow Him are called to be shepherds of our own flock-the persons He places under our watchcare, the ones He brings across our path that need love, compassion, a healing touch and a guiding hand.

It’s a tough job.

Often a thankless job.

But it’s our job.

Grace Like Rain: Why It’s So Darn Hard to Ask For Help

I would much rather be the one bringing the casserole than the one receiving it.

Not because I’m ungrateful but because I’m uncomfortable.

It is humbling to have to depend on other people. It’s hard to admit I can’t manage on my own. It’s downright humiliating to need help with daily tasks that used to come easy.

But truth is, I cannot make it alone.

Not now and really, not before-although I had kept up a pretty good front for decades.

While it is hard and humbling and sometimes humiliating, it’s healthy to admit when I’ve reached the end of my own reserves.

Because we were made for relationship.

Helping one another is how human hearts connect and grow together. It’s how we experience grace.

And there’s more than enough grace to go around.

Remember studying the water cycle in elementary school? A great big circle-from the ocean to the sky raining down on the dry land and running back to the ocean. Plenty of water to go around.

Never actually being used up, just rearranged and reapportioned.

Grace is like that. It passes from one heart to the next to the next. Rearranged and reapportioned but never used up.

When I give, that’s wonderful. That’s easy (for me) because it makes me feel like I’m in control, on top, doing my part.

When I receive, that’s a little harder. Because I feel like maybe I’m not trying hard enough, not working diligently enough, not contributing my share.

But that’s a lie.

Because ultimately ALL grace flows from God through Christ.

When I give, I’m giving out of the abundance He has showered on me. When I receive, I am receiving out of the abundance He has showered on someone else.

In the end, it’s all God.

If I refuse the grace He offers through others, I’m refusing HIM.

Not them.

I need to remember that.

Repost: Zero Points for Pretending-You Can’t Hide Your Heart

Oh, sometimes I think I’m clever enough to do it.

I edit my words, costume my body and fix my face so I can act the part. But truth is, I never manage to fool anyone who looks closer than my plastic smile.

I can’t hide my heart.

And I don’t know why I try-I don’t get points for pretending.

There’s no prize at the end of this long road for the one who makes it with fewest tears.

Read the rest here: Zero Points for Pretending: You Can’t Hide Your Heart

Why It’s So Important to Model Grief For Our Children & Grandchildren

It’s tempting to try to hide our tears and fears from our living children and grandchildren.

Who wants to overload a young heart and mind with grown-up problems?

There is definitely a place and time to shelter little people-it’s never appropriate to offload onto small shoulders what we just don’t want to carry ourselves.

But it is neither helpful nor healthy to pretend that sorrow and sadness don’t follow loss.

When I stuff feelings and insist on keeping a “stiff upper lip” I’m telling my kids that it’s not OK to admit that they are struggling.

When I act like it’s no big deal to set up the Christmas tree and deck the halls without their brother here, I’m encouraging them to remain silent instead of speaking up if their hearts are heavy instead of happy.

When I never voice my discomfort with certain activities or social events I am modeling a false front and fake smiles.

Of course, there are times we all have to suck it up and suck it in along this path. But that shouldn’t be the norm. As I’ve said over and over before-if we stuff our hearts full of unreleased feelings, we leave no room for the grace and mercy God wants to pour into them.

I can tell you that many, many folks have interviewed surviving siblings years and decades after their brother or sister left and have consistently discovered that most of them tried hard to live up to whatever standards their grieving parents set.

If Mom and Dad refused to talk about the loss, then they refused to talk about it too. If, on the other hand, the family practiced open communication, they were able to process feelings in real time instead of stuffing and having to deal with them later.

One of the greatest challenges in child loss (or any profound loss) is creating space within our closest grief circle to allow each person affected to express themselves whatever that looks like.

But it’s so, so important!

Don’t hide your tears.

Don’t shut down the questions.

Don’t lock away the uncertainty and anxiety child loss brings in a trunk and only bring it out when no one’s watching.

Because the little people (and not so little people) in your house are ALWAYS watching.

They need permission to grieve. ❤

One Day at a Time

A friend who is now battling a new challenge in addition to child loss posted this on her Facebook timeline:

You’re not going to master the rest of your life in one day. Just relax.

Master the day.

Then just keep doing that every day.

I LOVE it! And it reminded me of this quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson that has been on my refrigerator for years:

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

Truth is, no matter how much we may TRY to live life in weeks or months or years, we really are only able to live it one day at a time.

And as Jesus said over 2000 years ago: “Don’t worry at all then about tomorrow. Tomorrow can take care of itself! One day’s trouble is enough for one day.” (Matthew 6:34)

If I never knew it before, I know it now.

I am good for a single 24 hour period-one revolution of the earth.

That’s it.

Sure I put stuff on my calendar. I have to. But I never take it for granted. I never assume that what I think is going to happen next week really will happen next week.

I know better.

And I’ve also learned there is absolutely NO use in worrying about what MIGHT happen. Because worrying does not rob tomorrow of its problems, it only robs today of its joys.

So I work each day to do THAT day. I make it the most productive, most love-filled and life-giving day I can.

I go to bed satisfied that I’ve done my best.

Get up the next sunrise and do it again.

One day at a time.

Grief: Why I Still Need Grace From Friends and Family

There have been a number of television shows lately centered around families and personal tragedy that simultaneously draws them closer and tears them apart.

Some of the writers and actors are doing a good job showing what it looks like to live through a nightmare.

Some, not so much.

But none of them will take it out to years and decades-the audience would lose interest, decide that story line needed refreshing or simply needed to GO.

For those living with child loss, it’s no story line. We don’t get to walk away, change the channel, find some new and more interesting or more comfortable screen to watch.

It’s our life.

And we need folks who will hang in and hang on while we live it out. ❤

You cannot possibly know that scented soap takes me back to my son’s apartment in an instant.

You weren’t there when I cleaned it for the last time, boxed up the contents under the sink and wiped the beautiful, greasy hand prints off the shower wall. He had worked on a friend’s car that night, jumped in to clean up and was off.

He never made it home.

So when I come out of the room red-eyed, teary and quiet, please don’t look at me like I’m a freak.

Please don’t corner me and ask, “What’s wrong?” Or worse-please, please, please don’t suggest I should be “over it by now”.

Read the rest here: Grief and Grace:What I Need from Friends and Family

Keeping Short Accounts: What I’m Learning From My Son’s Sudden Death

This Sunday morning I had to extend and ask for forgiveness all within fifteen minutes.

One person said something that unintentionally hurt my heart (he had no idea that what he said plunged a knife in it) and then I overstepped in making an event public before making sure it was definitely on the calendar.

It could have meant I walked away offended and upset.

But I didn’t.

Instead I was honest with the person who upset me about what he said and why it hurt. He apologized immediately and I was quick to accept it. And when I realized I had offended the other person, I asked for her forgiveness and she granted it too.

I find it’s easier for me to do both- ask for and extend forgiveness-this side of child loss for lots of reasons.

First, I’m learning that I just don’t have the energy to maintain an offense.

Offenses are like very fragile hot house plants-they need lots of tending, protection from the elements and so much time. I used to be good at keeping an offense healthy and vibrant. I would feed it often and refuse to subject it to the harsh winds of real life where it could be shown for what it was-not worth the energy or effort!

It’s so much easier to wipe the slate clean and begin again.

Second, I’m learning that since grief wears me down in so many ways, I don’t have the resources to maintain my own mask, keep up my own pretense of always being in a good mood, smiling and having the right words to say. So I make mistakes, step on toes and feelings with a fair degree of regularity and NEED forgiveness often myself.

I can hardly expect others to extend to me what I withhold from them!

Third, I’m learning that the only thing worse than finding out someone I care about is beyond reach is hearing that news knowing I never made things right when it was within my power to do so.

When you’re expecting your healthy, vibrant, youthful son to pop over on Saturday morning but instead get a knock on the door before sunrise, it changes everything.

Sometimes I don’t heed my own advice.

But when I’m paying attention, listening to my heart and really present, I work hard to keep short accounts with those I love and even those I don’t.

Paul wrote:

Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law.

~Romans 13:8

I don’t want to leave this world owing anybody anything except love.

Love is never satisfied because hearts always need more.

And I am glad to pay it.

Making a Difference is Easier Than You Think

Some people’s passions lead them to headline making, world changing careers.

Most of us spend our days in smaller ways.

And we often feel like our tiny efforts create barely a ripple in the giant ocean of human experience.

But I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to be brilliant, rich, beautiful or perfect to make a difference in someone’s life.

All you have to do is care.

Compassionate companionship is a gift.

Learning to sit with another heart in joy and sorrow, victory and pain, sunshine and darkness all the while assuring her you will not leave-no matter what–is priceless.

Think about it: People pay thousands of dollars for a stranger to listen to their heart cries.

Sure, sometimes folks need a professional to help them untangle complex emotions, underlying mental health issues and substance abuse problems. But often, at root, they are simply lonely with no trusted companion for life’s journey.

Who do you know that needs a listening ear, a shoulder to lean on, a heart to affirm that his or her heart is worthy of love?

Choose to reach out.

Be a friend.

Make a difference.

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