Unwanted Assignment: Enrolled in the School of Suffering

I have written before that Grief is Not a Hammer in the Hand of God.

I do not for one minute believe that the Lord I love inflicted this pain on me for the purpose of “teaching me something”.

But I absolutely, positively believe that He can use it (and HAS used it) to make me more compassionate, kinder and more grace-filled than I was before Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.

Still, “becoming” is painful and requires that I submit to the hand of the Potter.

Grieving is not passive. Suffering isn’t something that happens to you and then you ride a wave of emotions until the circumstances quell. Suffering is like school, and grieving is how we accomplish the coursework. It’s not the kind of education anyone signs up for. But, when devastation enters our lives, we are automatically enrolled into the seminar on suffering. And, just as we would prepare for any class, we must download the syllabus and begin to faithfully complete the assignments.

Ann Maree Goudzwaard

This is truly insightful.

I think that’s what makes the difference between finding a meaningful way to live in the “after” or not.

Of course, at first NO ONE is keen to “download the syllabus”.

Dear brothers, is your life full of difficulties and temptations? Then be happy, 3 for when the way is rough, your patience has a chance to grow. 4 So let it grow, and don’t try to squirm out of your problems. For when your patience is finally in full bloom, then you will be ready for anything, strong in character, full and complete.

James 1:2-4 TLB

So for those of you fresher on this journey, don’t be dismayed or discouraged!

But at some point, what I (and others) refer to as “grief work” must be done.

In the meantime, I pray that the God of all hope fills you with His grace and strength and helps you hold onto hope-even on the days you feel overwhelmed and abandoned. 

❤

Want To Try Journaling? Here’s How.

Journaling has been and continues to be a very important part of my grief journey.

Putting thoughts on paper gets them out of my head.

Writing them down helps me understand them.

Read the rest here: Grief Journaling Prompts

Baking Hope

I’m a “dash of this” and a “bit of that” kind of cook.

Nearly forty years of prepping meals for a large family and literally hundreds of guests has provided confidence when making a roast or stew or casserole.

But baking is another matter entirely.

Baking is science (as my high school chemistry teacher pointed out) so the proportions need to be precise and measurements matter.

It’s much the same when it comes to feeding my heart and mind in the “after” of child loss.

Before Dominic ran ahead to Heaven it wasn’t as critical if I paid attention to how much negative information or opinions I consumed. I could brush them off and focus instead on all the blessings I enjoyed.

But after-well the equation changed.

I was already so weighted toward sorrow and despair, adding even a dash of additional negativity could push me right over the edge.

I learned to limit my exposure to generally unhelpful sources (like social media from some folks, clickbait websites, negative Nellies who only rant and rave). I learned to shut down my own tendency to rehearse slights, sad memories and internal dialogue that said I was a failure because one of my children died.

I work hard to find something for which to be thankful each day. I try to get outside and breathe in the fresh air and soak up the sunshine.

And 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.

If you want to find me after a stress-filled day or week, join me in the kitchen.

It’s where I do my best work.

It’s where my heart heals as my hands knead dough or I scrape the mixer bowl.

Baking hope is what I do.

❤

In case you want to join me:

*MAMA D’S POUND CAKE*

  • 2 cups quality flour
  • 2 cups sugar
  • 2 sticks butter (not margarine) OR 1 stick butter and 4 oz. cream cheese (softened)
  • 2 tablespoons pure vanilla
  • 5 eggs

Cream butter and sugar until fully blended and fluffy. Add eggs one at a time, beating well between additions. Add vanilla. Finally, add flour a bit at a time and beat until blended. Then continue to beat for 2-3 minutes until batter reaches a shiny smooth consistency.

Pour batter into a prepared (greased and floured OR use quality baking spray) Bundt pan or tube pan.

Bake 10 minutes in a preheated 375 degree oven. Reduce heat to 350 degrees and cook for an additional 45-60 minutes (pans and ovens vary).

Remove from oven and cool for about 10 minutes. Invert onto a cooling rack.

Serve with fresh berries, ice cream or toast for a yummy breakfast treat.

Here’s A Blessing For The Brokenhearted (A Poem)

I’ve kept a little notebook by my rocking chair for decades.

It’s where I jot down bits from whatever I may be reading that touch my heart.

When I was younger and focused on raising children the pages were filled with inspirational and aspirational quotes, Bible verses and poems.

Now the pages are full of laments, reminders of life’s brevity and blessings.

Here is one I really love.

❤

Sometimes I run across a poem that is absolutely perfect.  

This is one of those.  

Blessing for the Brokenhearted by Jan Richardson

Read the rest here: Blessing For The Brokenhearted

Some Unexpected Things Can Make Grieving Harder

No one wakes up one day and just “is”. We become, over time, as our innate nature interacts with the world around us. First our parents and siblings influence us and then school, friends, life experience either gently molds us or pounds us into shape.

Often we get so used to our own way of doing and being we never give it much thought. It’s just “how we are”. We work around our faults and try to use our strengths to our advantage.

Most of us are pretty good at it.

Then something earth shattering comes along and suddenly the cracks are exposed and we haven’t the energy to cover them over.

Read the rest here: What Can Make Grieving Harder? Things You Might Not Expect.

Can I Trust My Child Is With Jesus?

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 who 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.

Read the rest here: How Can I Trust My Child Is With Jesus?

Ten Ways I Survive Hard Grief Days

My hardest grief season begins in November and runs to the end of May.  Thanksgiving through Dominic’s birthday on (or near) Memorial Day are days full of triggers, memories and stark reminders that one of us is missing.

If I could fall asleep November first and wake up in June I’d do it.

But I can’t so I have to employ all the tricks I’ve learned in the over seven years since Dominic ran ahead to heaven to survive those particularly challenging months.

Here are ten ways I survive hard grief days…

Read the rest here: Taking Care: Ten Ways to Survive Hard Grief Days

Yay For Naps!

Historically many of the most prolific and influential people (think Winston Churchill) have been proponents of mid-day naps.

But for a Type-A personality whose life experience has amplified internal voices that scream, “Make every moment count!” naps feel like being lazy and wasting time.

I have resisted that after-lunch malaise for most of my life because I was convinced giving up an hour or more to sleeping would rob me of vital productivity and mean my list of “things to do” would languish, undone.

Recently (very, very recently-like only a week) I’ve tried to overcome my personal reluctance to give in to my body’s need to rest and have (gasp!!!) been going upstairs, lying down and taking a nap.

I still wake rather confused, disoriented and feeling like I’ve *wasted* whatever time was spent sleeping. But I have noticed that, contrary to what I anticipated, my night time rest has become more effective and restorative.

Like many of my fellow bereaved parents, my health has deteriorated following my son’s death. I was already diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis and have been through five different treatment regimens trying to address its insidious, progressive nature in the past seven years. I’m trying to come to terms with what amounts to premature aging and the limitations that represents but it’s hard.

I’ve also (ridiculous, I know!) still not adjusted to the FACT that I don’t have as many daily responsibilities as I once had as mama to a brood of four whom I homeschooled and chauffeured around to various extra-curricular activities.

It’s just me and my retired husband.

We can eat sandwiches or skip a meal altogether.

And if something’s not done today, it can most likely be done tomorrow (or next week) with little impact on the outcome.

I’m trying to embrace a lifestyle where there is literally NO ONE keeping score.

It’s a different kind of challenge.

But one I’m working to meet.

Yay! for naps.

The rest and the spell

❤

Grief Quotes That Help My Heart On Hard Days

I’m kind of selective in what memes I toss around.

I don’t usually share them unless I can agree wholeheartedly with them.

But sometimes a meme is the simplest and most effective way to communicate truth.  And sometimes I just need a quick lift on a hard day. 

So here are a few I like…

Read the rest here: Eight Grief Quotes That Help My Heart On Hard Days

Sometimes People Just Don’t Listen!

This incident happened awhile ago but it still rankles me.

I’m not one to insist we need to self-censor everything we say or share because it *might* offend someone else. That’s just exhausting!

But…BUT…when someone makes me aware that I’m adding to their burden with my words I’m quick to shut up.

Laying down idle conversation is a small price to pay to love a friend well.

❤

I had a very uncomfortable exchange with someone at church Wednesday night.  

We have a light potluck dinner each Wednesday before Bible Study and I’m on kitchen duty.  So I was uncovering dishes, adding spoons and getting things ready when conversation erupted around me about a “horrible wreck just up the road.”

I kept silent and tried to focus on the plastic wrap and aluminum foil but couldn’t help hearing the animated relaying of detail after detail until it reached a crescendo ending in someone declaring that, “Well, those people just drive too fast.  They don’t even care about themselves.”  

You might guess where this is going.  

Read the rest here: When People Just Don’t Listen