One of the things I struggle with since Dominic ran ahead to heaven is this: is every detail of history planned by God? Or are there general outlines filled in by human choices (good and bad) and leading ultimately to God’s working out HIS story within OUR stories?
How do I reconcile God’s sovereignty and my free will?
I’m still working on that.
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2017/12/04/advent-for-the-brokenhearted-birthplace-foretold/
It’s easy for us this side of Calvary to point fingers at the Jews for getting it wrong.
But when you are waiting for a Savior, you aren’t thinking that the One Who will save will be the One Who suffers.
You think He will be strong and mighty and armed for battle. You think He will conquer and lay waste and stride triumphant through the streets.
You don’t expect a Baby who becomes a Man who becomes a Sacrifice.
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2017/12/03/advent-for-the-brokenhearted-suffering-foretold/
Peace is elusive in the best of times.
Even in the absence of all out war (emotional, physical or spiritual) most of us dwell in a kind of no-man’s-land where we might not fear for our lives, but we are not exactly content and satisfied.
And in the world of afterloss, peace seems like a fairy tale promise best relegated to children’s stories and Hallmark movies.
But God knows my heart. He knows my pain. He has made a way for me to experience peace even here, even now.
It’s not the “and they lived happily ever after” peace where every little thing is tied up in a neat package with a perfect bow.
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2017/12/02/advent-for-the-brokenhearted-peace-foretold/
As the [sixth] Christmas without Dominic rapidly approaches, I am pondering the question: “Why, oh why, is Christmas so hard?”
I think I’ve figured out at least a few reasons why.
For me, probably THE biggest reason Christmas is hard is because it throws off the routine I depend on to shepherd my heart through a day. It’s easiest for me to manage when I have at least a couple of hours of quiet time each morning. I need those silent moments to let my heart feel what it needs to feel, to cry if I must and to orient my thoughts after, once again, “remembering” that Dominic isn’t here.
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2017/12/17/why-oh-why-is-christmas-so-hard/
There are many days throughout the year that present special challenges to grieving parents.
Some are known only to their hearts and require escaping to the secret place where memories are stored and love is kept.
But others loom large on every calendar.
Thanksgiving. Christmas. Hanukkah.
Those require both invisible strength and a very visible public presence at family gatherings and other holiday events.
I’ve written lots of posts on how to make it through the holidays but I really like this succinct and easy-to-share Holiday Grief Survival Guide infographic. It covers the basics and is a helpful way to shepherd a hurting heart through the holidays. ❤
I love candles-always have.
I especially love them as the days get shorter and we creep toward the longest night of the year.
I love them more since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.
Every time I light a candle, I remind my heart that even the smallest light can chase the darkness.
When hundreds, thousands and even millions of candles are lighted together, it does more than chases darkness, it undoes it.
Sunday, December 8, 2924 is the Worldwide Candle Lighting Memorial Service (WCL) sponsored by The Compassionate Friends (TCF).
Millions of parents and others will light a candle at 7:00 PM local time for one hour to honor sons, daughters, brothers, sisters and grandchildren gone too soon.
As the earth turns, a wave of light will sweep across the globe one time zone after another.
It’s natural for parents, grandparents, sisters and brothers to mark the light and life of one they miss.
It’s less natural for friends and extended family members to do so.
One of the greatest fears of every bereaved parent is that his or her child will cease to be remembered or that the light and life of a son or daughter will simply fade as time goes on.
Year-end holidays accentuate the place where our children should be but aren’t. Merry making and picture taking emphasize the gap between grieving hearts and those untouched by death of a close loved one.
That’s why TCF has chosen THIS week for the annual WCL.
If you want a simple way to bless someone you know who lost a child, grandchild or sibling, a single candle and a quick picture or post on social media will do it.
My heart is always encouraged and strengthened when others take time to remember Dominic.
Buy a candle.
Set an alarm on your phone.
Light up the night with us.
Together we will remember. Together we will chase the darkness. Together we will declare that our children are out of reach but not forgotten.
Never, ever forgotten. ❤
Yesterday was not an especially busy one in the sense of places to go or timely appointments to make.
But it was full of activity and people and chores and the need to use creative juices and exercise lots and lots of self-control.
It was also the day I take my weekly (very potent) medication for rheumatoid arthritis which normally doesn’t bother me much. I get a little tired, sleep it off that night and wake refreshed and ready for the rest of the week.
Last night, though, it hit me hard.
I got home from church and realized I hadn’t set up a post for early this morning (it usually goes out automatically to subscribers and is posted on my Facebook page just after midnight). And for the first time ever-EVER-in four years, I just let it go.
I didn’t try to quickly cue up a repost of an old post. I didn’t grab a meme or image off the internet and write around it. I just crawled into bed and went to sleep.
Pride is a terrible thing.
It often goads me into pushing my body, mind and spirit beyond physical, mental or psychological endurance. Sometimes it tricks me into thinking I’m leaning on God when I’m leaning on my own willful stubbornness instead.
I’m all about not giving up, giving in or giving out when faced with something a little harder than I like or even something miserably more difficult than I can stand. But I need to practice discernment and learn to let go of things that are more about my proving a point than walking worthy of the calling of Christ in me.
I love writing.
I love every single heart that chooses to read what I write and sometimes comment or just pass it along so others can read it too.
I hope I don’t skip another day any time soon.
But if I do, I’m going to practice what I preach and just let. it. go.
Even though it hurts my pride to admit my limitations.
I don’t believe for one minute that child loss is a test or curriculum or punishment.
But I do believe there are things I can learn from it.
I absolutely believe there are things I HAVE learned and am learning in this Valley of the Shadow of Death.
What are some of those lessons?
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2018/12/03/lessons-learned/
Today has not been a good day.
It’s not a grief anniversary or a holiday or a birthday or any other identifiable grief trigger.
But I have cried. A lot.
Life refuses to pause, to take a break, to stop plowing forward even though I’m worn out and begging for a moment to catch up, catch my breath, figure out how to keep going.
No matter how well I plead my case it seems there’s no reprieve.
The gap between how I wish things would go and how they actually proceed grows wider each day.
I’m not angry.
I’m defeated.
Tomorrow is another day and I look forward to new mercies with the sunrise.
❤
More than five years after Dominic’s departure for Heaven, I’m having to regather my thoughts and relearn my lessons this December.Mama’s death, along with a multitude of other stressors has plunged me deep into despondency and despair.
My heart is nearly as fragile in this, my sixth season of holidays, as it was in the first. So I’m trying hard to remind myself of how to make it through.
Maybe this is your first Christmas or maybe it’s your tenth or twentieth. However many years you’ve faced and survived, I pray this post might fortify your spirit one more time.
With love, Melanie ❤
It comes up again and again-and not just for the parents facing their year of “firsts”: How do I survive December with a broken heart?
There’s no single answer or list of things to do that will suit every family.
But there are some general principles that can make even this awful reality a little easier:
Read the rest here: https://thelifeididntchoose.com/2017/12/01/how-to-survive-december-with-a-broken-heart/
thelifeididntchoose 