How long has it been? A year, two, eighteen or twenty-five?
When. are. you. going. to. move on?
Aren’t you over talking about their birth story, their childhood, their school years, their spouse, children, moves and career? How many funny stories or sad recollections do I have to listen to?????
I mean, really-it’s been soooooooooo00 long since they were BORN!
Sound’s ridiculous, doesn’t it? It IS ridiculous.
Read the rest here: Move On Already!
Last year during the month of August I joined with others and participated in a Scripture Writing Challenge.
We committed together to read and write out short passages on grief every day.
I wrote companion posts and shared them.
Circumstances have prevented me from doing another in-depth study again this year but I thought it would be nice to collect the entries from last August in a weekly bundle and put them out there for anyone who might want to revisit them or try it for the first time.
So here’s the first week’s links (including how to set up a journal):
Setting up your journal and link to all the verses: August Scripture Journal Challenge: Verses on Grief
Day 8: Scripture Journal Challenge: Earth Has No Sorrow That Heaven Can’t Heal
Day 9: Scripture Journal Challenge: When I Can’t Trace His Hand I Trust His Heart
Day 10: Scripture Journal Challenge: Worn Out and Weary? Jesus Understands.
Day 11: Scripture Journal Challenge: A Living Hope
Day 12: Scripture Journal Challenge: The One I Run To
Day 13: Scripture Journal Challenge: My Righteous, Raging King!
Day 14: Scripture Journal Challenge: Suffering and Safe Places
It takes a bit of work and commitment to do this so I understand some hearts may not be in a place where that is possible.
But if you’ve missed feeding your soul with the Word of God this is an easy way to get back into the habit.
❤
Walking beside a hurting heart is hard.
Especially for “fixers”.
We want to DO something, to effect change, to “solve the problem”, to make things better.
But there are circumstances in life that cannot be fixed, changed or solved.
Child loss is one of them.
Those suffering under the load of pain and sorrow, devastation, heartbreak and brokenness that enter a heart when a child leaves this earth need compassionate companionship, not advice.
That might mean you have to bite your tongue. It might mean you have to sit silent as tears roll down or sobs wrack your friend’s body. It might mean that you have to refrain from making comparisons between their grief and your own (whatever that might be).
It most certainly means that you should keep reaching out, reaching across the divide that separates the bereaved from the non-bereaved, and put your own ego aside when it seems like all the effort you are making isn’t making a difference.
It takes lots and lots of time and lots and lots of work for a heart to even begin to heal from deep grief.
Your constant and unwavering support can provide the space and grace that enables someone to do that.
Don’t give up on your brokenhearted friend.
Encouragement can make the difference between giving up or going on.
Your compassionate companionship can offer hope and light in a hopeless and very dark place.
Every time I tell the story of Dominic, it helps to keep him real.
It reminds my heart that he lived, that he mattered, that he matters still.
And in the telling, I am giving away a little bit of him for another heart to carry.
His light is passed to another soul that can pass it to another and another.
Read the rest here: Why We Have to Tell Our Stories & Why We Need Someone to Listen
When your scale of awful is off the charts, there’s a tendency to dismiss anything less as merely inconvenient or inconsequential.
But that’s just not how our hearts work.
You can be shattered by child loss and still feel the slings and arrows of everyday losses, disappointments, discomfort and sadness.
It’s OK to mourn the things that don’t measure up to the pain and despair of burying a child.
It’s OK to admit that even ordinary things like an empty nest, changing circumstances, moving away from friends and family, ill health, family drama and dozens of other, smaller wounds prick your heart and make it bleed.
While child loss has helped me gain perspective on what’s truly important, irreplaceable and worth my time and energy, it has not created a protective and impenetrable barrier that guards my heart from further pain.
I am just as likely as anyone else to fall into a funk over a misunderstanding, a less-than-expected outcome, a disappointing phone call with a friend or some other everyday frustration. And, sometimes, there are truly hard and horrible things I’ve had to bear: my mother’s prolonged illness and death, my grandson’s premature birth, my son’s overseas deployment and other things I’m not at liberty to share because I’m not the main character in the story.
Child loss doesn’t mean there won’t be more pain in this life.
It doesn’t give me a pass on heartache.
And it is perfectly normal-actually perfectly and absolutely right-to be sad and mourn the smaller losses in life.
It means my heart’s still beating.
It means I’m still engaged with those around me.
It means I’m still present and invested in life.
And that’s a good thing. ❤
Thankfully our family has always turned to laughter as a way of making it through things that would otherwise bring us to tears. So it wasn’t but a couple days past when we got the news of Dom’s leaving we managed a giggle here and there as his friends shared some funny stories with us.
But it felt strange to have laughter bubbling up in my throat even as I couldn’t stop its escaping my mouth.
It wasn’t the unforced expression of joy and merriment it used to be. Instead it was a strangled, mishapen gurgling mixture of the joy I once knew and unspeakable pain I now knew.
It didn’t float airily into the atmosphere, it thudded heavy to the floor.
And then I felt like I was betraying my son.
Read the rest here: Is it OK if I Laugh?
Maybe I’m just old and tired.
Maybe it’s grief brain or my autoimmune disease or some other biological issue of which I’m ignorant.
But I just don’t have the energy to be on guard, to defend my “territory”, to argue with everyone who might hold a different opinion or who might be experiencing life from a different perspective.
Oh, I still HAVE opinions. And I share them with family and close friends in places and spaces where we can see one another’s faces, expressions and hear the intonation in our voices.
But I refuse to debate the cause du jour on social media in hopes of raising a ruckus or getting “likes” or “shares” to feed my ego and feed the frenzy.
It seems to me the world needs more grace and less growling.
So let me just be plain: I’m on your side.
Whatever side you land on.
Masks or no masks. Sending your kids to school or keeping them home. Staying in as much as possible or going out among the people.
Each of us has our own concerns, convictions and must follow our own conscious. I’m not judging.
Be as careful as you can be and be willing to accept the consequences of your choices.
You’ll be my friend either way. 
I told the two children with me that morning that we were going to survive this awful blow.
And we have.
It has been hard and ugly and more painful than anything else we’ve ever had to do.
But we’re still standing.
And I want to encourage the hearts that are just starting down this broken road: You really CAN make it.
Some of you reading this are saying, “But I don’t want to make it. I want to lie down and give up and be out of this pain.”
I don’t blame you.
Read the rest here: Shifting The Weight, Bearing the Burden
Last year during the month of August I joined with others and participated in a Scripture Writing Challenge.
We committed together to read and write out short passages on grief every day.
I wrote companion posts and shared them.
Circumstances have prevented me from doing another in-depth study again this year but I thought it would be nice to collect the entries from last August in a weekly bundle and put them out there for anyone who might want to revisit them or try it for the first time.
So here’s the first week’s links (including how to set up a journal):
Setting up your journal and link to verses: August Scripture Journal Challenge: Verses on Grief
Day 1: Scripture Journal Challenge: Life Everlasting
Day 2: Scripture Journal Challenge: Unshaken and Unshakeable
Day 3: Scripture Journal Challenge: Sufficient Grace
Day 4: Scripture Journal Challenge: When My Heart Needs a Reminder
Day 5: Scripture Journal Challenge: Safe In My Daddy’s Arms
Day 6: Scripture Journal Challenge: Between A Rock And A Hard Place
Day 7: Scripture Journal Challenge: My Groom Is Coming To Get Me!
It takes a bit of work and commitment to do this so I understand some hearts may not be in a place where that is possible.
But if you’ve missed feeding your soul with the Word of God this is an easy way to get back into the habit.
❤
I know I’m not the only one who carries a calendar in my head that threatens to explode like a ticking timebomb. Days that mean nothing to anyone else loom large as they approach.
The date of his death.
The date of his funeral.
His birthday.
My birthday.
The day he should have graduated from law school
On and on and on.
How can I survive these oppressive reminders of what I thought my life would look like? How can I grab hold of something, anything that will keep my heart and mind from falling down the rabbit hole of grief into a topsy-turvy land where nothing makes sense and it’s full of unfriendly creatures that threaten to gobble me whole?
Read the rest here: Surviving Grief Anniversaries
thelifeididntchoose