We’ve all been there-we ask a routine question and someone refuses to play the social game.
We say, “How are you?” and they answer honestly instead of with the obligatory, “I’m fine. You?”
Suddenly the encounter has taken an unexpected turn.
“Oh, no! I don’t know what to say,” you think.
Read the rest here: How To Respond When Someone Shares Their Pain
Usually I write about how child loss has impacted my life and the lives of my family.
Part of the reason I do that is to offer encouragement to other bereaved parents and guidance for people walking with and ministering to them.
Sometimes I address my writing to a broader audience that may include people who do not follow Jesus because some topics have more to do with general situations and less to do with faith-although my faith informs my life in every way.
But today I want to say something directly to the Body of Christ in the world whether or not you have personally suffered tragedy:
If we are gathering in the name of our Blessed Saviour and pushing the wounded to the fringe of our fellowships,
we have got it all wrong.
Jesus came for the broken,
the wounded,
the limping,
the very ones who were unwelcome in the “upstanding community”
of synagogues and the Temple.
He had no where to lay His head, carried no purse full of gold and walked everywhere He went.
He died between two thieves, mocked and naked, bleeding and helpless (in the human sense).
When He met people, He spoke directly to their HEART, regardless of their outward appearance.
He met REAL needs.
He LOVED in ways that made a difference.
We are called–I AM CALLED–to be like Jesus.
If I memorize the entire New Testament and miss this truth, I have missed Him.
We read I Corinthians 13 at weddings and treat it like a marriage survival guide.
But that passage wasn’t written to two young people joining lives and “in love”, it was written to the CHURCH as a guideline for how Christ in us should be present in the world.
I don’t want to be a clanging gong!
I want to sing hope to those I meet by reflecting the love of Jesus everywhere I go.
I’m starting this morning at my own church door.
Last year around this time, my eldest son received his captain’s bars and had just begun Officer Training School.
This year, it’s even more real to me that one of my own children may be called upon to risk or give his life for the life and liberty of another.
And the number of mothers I know whose child has died in service or because of service related wounds or PTSD has grown ever larger.
Memorial Day is not “just another holiday”.
It is a solemn occasion that merits our deepest reverence.
We must never forget: Freedom isn’t free.
Read the rest here: Memorial Day
When you pass that accident on the side of the road or read about the mass shooting in the press, what do you think?
What do you say?
Do you breathe a sigh of relief that no one you loved or knew was part of such a tragic disaster? Do you feel chosen, special, “above it all” because you follow Jesus? Do you think that your faithful, Bible-focused life and worldview will protect you from random accidents or the sinful actions of others?
Do you say, “Thank You God, it wasn’t me (or mine)?” Do you pray for the ones caught up in the death and destruction? Pray that they knew Jesus? Pray that their families will be able to bear the weight of grief and sorrow that is just this moment bearing down on them?
Or do you snap a photo with your phone and post on social media something like: “Awful wreck on the interstate. So glad I was a little late this morning or it might have been me! God is good!”
Or worse: “Awful wreck on the interstate. Traffic backed up for miles. UGH!“
I walk in two worlds–one where I am so very thankful for each life and family spared what I now know by experience, and one where I am brought to tears every time they aren’t.
I wish believers in Christ would choose words that are consistent with compassion-whether the person is spared or not.
Jesus is a man of tears.
He was moved by love and compassion in every human encounter (even with the Pharisees-He wished their eyes were opened).
I want my heart and my words to reflect that I know this Saviour full of love and mercy.
Spared or not, it’s no doing of mine.
To say otherwise reflects only arrogance and ignorance.
Just a moment, now, you who say, “We are going to such-and-such a city today or tomorrow. We shall stay there a year doing business and make a profit”! How do you know what will happen even tomorrow? What, after all, is your life? It is like a puff of smoke visible for a little while and then dissolving into thin air. Your remarks should be prefaced with, “If it is the Lord’s will, we shall be alive and will do so-and-so.” As it is, you get a certain pride in yourself in planning your future with such confidence. That sort of pride is all wrong. No doubt you agree with the above in theory. Well, remember that if a man knows what is right and fails to do it, his failure is a real sin.
James 4:14-17 PHILLIPS
I will not get used to the fact that my son is beyond my reach. I have come to a certain acceptance of it as fact, and acknowledgement of the truth that I cannot change that fact.
The pain hasn’t become less painful, only more familiar. It doesn’t surprise me as often when it pricks my heart anew.
The world goes on. I am a tiny speck in the greater scheme of things and my heartache hardly merits any pause in the machinery of the cosmos.
I have learned to put on the face I need for everyday tasks and to look the part of a functioning human being. But just beneath the surface is a cauldron of emotion that can be exposed in a heartbeat.
I miss my son.
I miss the part of me that was reflected back from the mirror of Dominic.
I miss the family we used to be.
I miss the past when there could be a whole day of laughter without a single tear.
I miss the children I used to have-the ones who knew nothing about irrevocable loss and breathtaking heartache.
I know I’m indulging in selfish introspection and that I should be looking with faith-filled eyes to the glorious future God has promised through Christ.
But today I just can’t.
I won’t be guilted into trying to pretend that I don’t miss all this.
Because I do.
I have a heart for ALL mamas-the ones who are just starting out all the way up to the ones who launched their fledglings and have an empty nest.
I especially have a heart for mamas who have had to say “good-bye” to one or more of their precious children-sending them on ahead to heaven.
I’ve never met one that didn’t wonder if she did enough, said enough, loved enough-WAS enough.
I have a love/hate relationship with social media.
On the one hand, it allows instant communication and easy sharing of special events among friends and family in ways we could only dream about when my kids were tiny. On the other hand, the perfect pictures and carefully curated lives posted for the world to see place great pressure on those of us who look around at our messy houses and messy lives.
Add to that the articles and memes passed around and you have a perfect combination to crush a mama’s spirit.
Are my children being kept safe? Are they being kept too safe? Are they in the right school, the right sport, the right music program? Should I feed them this or that? Am I doing enough?
Am I enough?
Am I a bad mama?
Can I just tell you something struggling mama? Can I give you a lifeboat in the ocean of doubt?
God chose you before the foundation of the world to be your child’s mama. He knows everything about you-past. present and future-and He chose YOU to help shape this little life into the person He created your child to be.
Yes, you make mistakes.
Yes, you are flawed.
Yes, you will do some things well and some things not so well.
But that is no surprise to God.
Look closely at the families in the Old Testament-you don’t have to get past Genesis to find dysfunction all over the place. But God isn’t limited by our limitations. His plan isn’t thwarted by our inability to follow directions. His purposes do not depend on perfect parenting.
Hallelujah! AMEN!
So buckle up and hold on-do the best you can to guide your family down the road God lays before you. You will make some bad decisions and need to do a few U-turns.
That’s OK. Lean into the One Who made you and made your children.
God has it under control.
There are many burdens bereaved parents bear in addition to the heaviness of living with child loss.
Some had unfinished business,
some were estranged,
some had harsh words
or no words at all before their child left them.
And some are oh, so afraid that the child that made a sincere profession of faith in Christ might not be in heaven because he or she was living outside the will of God when they died.
I can’t offer words to undo or soothe some of the other burdens, but I can offer hope from the Word of God to assure any parent afraid for the eternal salvation of their child that he or she is safely Home.
If your child made a genuine profession of faith in Christ, then no single impulsive decision or even a series of bad choices, can undo what God has done for him or her through the blood of Jesus.
If Satan is not strong enough to snatch us from God’s hand, our feeble human choices are certainly not strong enough!
Jesus declared those whom the Father had given Him could in no way be snatched from His hand:
28 And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.
29 My Father, which gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father’s hand.
30 I and my Father are one.
John 10:28-30 KJV
The circumstances of a child’s death do not negate his or her profession of faith in the blood of Christ Jesus!
42 Then he [the repentent thief on the cross] said, “Jesus, remember me when you enter your kingdom.”
43 He said, “Don’t worry, I will. Today you will join me in paradise.”
Luke 22: 42-43 MSG
I realize that various denominational traditions teach different things, but I am utterly convinced that it is God Himself Who calls, Who saves, Who keeps and Who is keeping at this moment our precious children who put their trust in Jesus:
For it is by grace [God’s remarkable compassion and favor drawing you to Christ] that you have been saved [actually delivered from judgment and given eternal life] through faith. And this [salvation] is not of yourselves [not through your own effort], but it is the [undeserved, gracious] gift of God;
Ephesians 2:8 AMP
I also rest satisfied that He Who began a good work in our children is faithful to complete it. If salvation depended on our good works, or our own faithfulness-ALL of us would be lost.
We are hid in Christ. His righteousness (and HIS alone) is our righteousness.
For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God.
Colossians 3:3 KJV
Our sins are flung as far as the east is from the west. They are hid behind God’s back-unviewable (have you ever tried to see something on the small of your back-without a mirror?):
Dominic was not at the height of his Bible-toting, church-going, praise-song-singing days when he left us. He was an adult student in law school, living in his own apartment and making his own choices. He made some I didn’t like. But that doesn’t change the FACT that he belonged (and STILL belongs) to Jesus.
Your child who trusted Jesus is safe, dear parent.
He is in his really, truly Home.
One day there will be great joy when we are reunited. Until then, we rely on the promises of God in Christ to see us through.
I pray for every parent reading that God overwhelms your hurting heart with His love, grace and mercy and assures you of His faithfulness.
And may He give you strength for each new day.
❤ Melanie
I miss Dominic. I will always miss him. Our table will never be full no matter how many others come to sit round its edges.
BUT-I will not rob my living children of my heart because part of it lives in Heaven.
I wrote this for the three children that still walk the earth with me.
You made me a mother, along with Dominic, and I celebrate each one of you as a gift from God.
Read the rest here: A Letter To My Living Children*
So, more than twenty years on a farm and I can NOT back a trailer. Nope. Can’t do it.
One day I spent hours trying to teach myself how to do it. Never was able to do anything other than manage to jackknife the trailer, go unhook it and start over.
When I go somewhere with a trailer I do one of two things: (1) I find a space where I can drive in and be able to just make a loop or (2) I find the nearest person who CAN back a trailer, hand them my keys and ask them to do it.
I feel NO shame.
But that’s not the case with other things I can’t do. So many times I try to avoid admitting that I am unable to meet certain people’s expectations or do certain things that I either used to be able to do or feel I SHOULD be able to do.
I think the reason I don’t mind outing myself on trailers is because that confession usually gets a laugh or a knowing look from the person who helps me or an admission from someone standing near at the feed store that they also have trouble backing up a trailer.
But when I say, “I just don’t think I’m up to teaching VBS” or “I’d love to come to that event but I’ve reached my social quota this week” or “I’m still struggling with driving by that spot or eating at that restaurant” it’s often met with (at best) a quizzical look or (at worst) a comment about how I should be “better” by now.
And then I DO feel shamed. I feel like I don’t measure up, like I’m not as valuable as the next person or that I have failed some cosmic test.
You know what though? That’s a reflection on other people’s lack of compassion and experience or their personal insecurity NOT a reflection of my worth.
It is really just fine for me to admit my limitations because EVERYONE has limitations.
I can’t lift a 250 lb barbell. But I can whip up dinner for fifty people. I can’t read Chinese but I can read Dr. Seuss with an accent and hit all the rhymes on cue. I can’t run a marathon but I can work all day without complaining (most of the time).
I’m human (surprise!). So are you.
I have some limitations as a result of burying a child. You may have limitations because of age or disease or something else I don’t know about or can’t see.
That’s OK.
Let’s make a pact: I’ll take you as you are and you can take me as I am. I’ll help you when you need help and you can help me when I need help.
We will extend grace and receive grace as needed to make life work.
Isn’t that really the essence of human community?
I know that others want desperately me to be “better”. They want me to be happy and carefree and back to the Melanie they knew before child loss.
And not just for their sake, for mine too.
It’s hard to watch someone you care about in pain.
But my reality has been forever changed.
Read the rest here: Love Doesn’t End
thelifeididntchoose 