Reminders That Life is Fleeting

When children are young and growing every birthday is a celebration. And it absolutely should be!

But when you’ve walked a few (0r more than a few!) years on this old world, birthdays begin to morph into something else.

They remind a heart that life is short, that not all of the people we love will enjoy fullness of years and even those that do seem to leave us way too soon.

Birthdays-after precious people have run ahead to Heaven-mark one more year without them.

Instead of cake and balloons, flowers and presents, we sit with silence and absence, memories and wishes for more time…❤

Today my heart hurts more than usual.

It’s my mama’s birthday-the fourth one we will celebrate without her here to blow out the candles.

It’s also the fourth anniversary (do you call it that?) of the day Papa had to call an ambulance to rush her to the hospital.

She never came home.

Read the rest here: Birthdays and Wakeful Nights

Healing Is NOT Linear

I remember thinking in the early days, weeks and months of this journey that healing was impossible.

The wound was too great, too deep and too devastating to allow for that.

No amount of work or help or wishful thinking could undo the damage.

But I was wrong.

Read the rest here: Healing Is Not Linear

Waiting, Unashamed

Maybe what God has for me and others who suffer long is not a victorious tag line that can be slapped on a photo or shared on social media. 

Maybe it’s only in the continued press of suffering that God reveals Himself in ways the non-suffering never see.

Maybe a dash to declare victory is actually rushing past what God has for us in deep pain and ongoing struggle.

Maybe waiting in hopeful expectation for what God is doing and will do in me and through me IS the victory.

Read the rest here: Not Ashamed to Wait

There Is NO Shame in Being Human

If you, like me, have had a less-than-stellar recent record dealing with those you love, those you meet and those you pass on the street or in your car, accept this truth:

You are absolutely, positively NOT perfect.

And that’s OK.

Read the rest here: No Shame In Being Human

A Few Grief Quotes That Speak To My Heart

When I find words for my feelings it helps.

So I collect quotes, copying them down in my journal and sometimes hanging them where I can see them throughout the day.

Here are a few that speak to my heart. I hope they speak to yours.  ❤

Read the rest here: Ten Grief Quotes That Speak To My Heart

Oh, How I Long To Hear His Name!

The Vietnam Memorial is a beautiful and meaningful reminder of those who gave their lives in that war.  The stark black stone highlights the 58,307 names engraved in its surface.

MEMORIAL REMEMBRANCE THE WALL CEREMONY NAMES FATIGUES EMOTION
VETERANS KRT PHOTO BY PETE SOUZA/CHICAGO [Photo via Newscom]

Names matter because they represent individuals that mattered-to family, to friends, to coworkers, to a nation.

I shared this years ago as part of a “Loving Well” series of posts about what grieving parents feel and what ministers to their broken hearts.

I long to know my son is remembered and still matters.  

PleaseJust Say His Name.

Grief, Really Just Love

At first grief felt only like sorrow and longing and brokenness.

Then it felt like confusion and anxiety and despair.

A little further along this journey it mostly felt like apathy.

Now it feels like love.

Read the rest here: Grief-It’s Really Just Love

Thank You For Seven Years of Faithful Listening!

Seven (!) years ago today I shared my first post in this space.

It was a timid foray into the wider world just a year and a half after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.

I was truly frightened that once I began sharing my intimate thoughts, good (and not-so-good) experiences and things I was learning in this Valley of the Shadow of Death I would either: (1) find out no one really cared and/or; (2) offend friends and family.

But what motivated me to overcome that fear was a sense that for all the information out there on grief in general, I couldn’t find nearly enough first-person experience written in bite-sized chunks on child loss in particular.

After Dom ran ahead, it was difficult for me to sit down and read a whole book. I needed bits I could read on a single computer screen.

I also needed someone to be upfront and honest about what it meant to continue to cling to faith even when it was hard and even when it meant acknowledging doubts and living with unanswered questions.

It’s difficult to believe now with the plethora of popular books (both secular and religious) on “open broken” but seven years ago, there weren’t many around.

So I decided I’d just say what I had to say and let it fall on the ears that might need to hear it regardless of who didn’t like it or chose to ignore it.

And here we are seven years later.

I don’t know how long I’ll keep writing-probably as long as I feel like I have something to say, people are listening and my fingers can still tap-tap-tap the keyboard.

For now, writing is what I do.

Even when life interrupts almost everything else I will find a few moments to jot down thoughts and hit “publish”.

I know some posts are much thinner than others-maybe just a meme or two and an encouraging word. Some are just reworked posts from years gone by.

But I want to show up in case THIS morning someone’s having an especially rotten one.

I want you to know that there IS life after child loss.

A very different life.

A harder life.

A life you didn’t want and wouldn’t ever choose, but life nonetheless.

And I appreciate every. single. heart. who joins me here and cheers me (and others!) along.

I’m Still Living With Regrets

I first shared this post seven years ago when I began writing the blog.

When I read it now, the pain of regret is precisely as sharp as it was when I wrote it. I still wish, wish, wish I had NOT tossed stuff out willy-nilly just a few months before Dominic left us.

I’ve released lots of material things since he’s been gone but it’s been done thoughtfully and with the understanding that I am letting go of one more bit of who he was.

When I was just an overwhelmed ex-homeschool mama longing to reclaim space, I was much less careful about what I threw out.

Time doesn’t always (maybe never?) erase regret.

❤ Melanie
IMG_2605

Just a few months before Dominic was killed, this hoarding homeschool mama decided that it was time to finally give up some of the thousands of pages of handwritten, color-crayoned papers stacked in the attic, the storage building and floating in corners and crevices throughout the house.

Four children and twenty-two years of teaching them at home had produced a mountain of memories.  I began to sort through the ones I deemed “most important to keep” and “everything else”.  

Several loads were taken to the dump and tossed unceremoniously onto the trash pile.

It felt like freedom.

Now it feels like regret and longing.

Read the rest here: A Life in Scraps

Bitterness Will Bear Poisonous Fruit

I believe the root of bitterness is turning away from the truth that God is faithful, loving, gracious and good.

Once a heart denies THAT, it is easily led away from the grace of God and the mercy of God.

The bitter root bears bitter fruit and has the potential to defile everyone around us and beyond.

Because when a heart embraces bitterness, it is never content to be bitter alone. It offers up the wretched fruit to anyone who will taste it.

Read the rest here: Bitterness Bears Poisonous Fruit