Tag: authenticity

Heartache and Hope Ministry Update

Oh, my!

I’ve been overwhelmed and undone by the outpouring of support for my tiny steps into the world of bigger ministry.

So many of you have messaged, commented, texted and donated and it has encouraged my heart.

I’ll be honest, when the Lord first whispered the idea of creating something “official” in my ear, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it.

It sounded like a lot of work and a lot of commitment and a lot of potential for public failure.

But y’all have shouted a resounding “amen” to the questions, “Should I do this? Is there a need? Can I fill a space no one else is currently filling?”

Thank you.

I think you deserve an update on progress and plans, so here it is.

I’ve been working, working, working to learn the ins and outs of website design, non-profit record keeping and wise administration (along with delegation-not my forte!).

I finally figured out how to share at least some blog posts on the new website.

Don’t worry. I will continue to write here every day as usual but I will publish the most popular and most helpful articles at http://heartacheandhope.org as well.

The first in-person gathering for bereaved parents will be at my little rural church in the underserved community of Bibb County, Alabama on Thursday, October 17th.

There will be a time for sharing our stories, fellowship around a light supper and some brief helps on how to face the holidays after child loss.

These gatherings will be held most months and are open to any bereaved parents who want to attend.

I am hosting a small bereaved moms’ retreat at my family homestead in October as well. The theme is Heartache, Hope and Healing in Jesus-Broken Vessels, Beautiful Message.

My prayer is that the intimate setting, teaching, sharing, prayer and bonding fellowship will raise up other moms ready to share their stories and shed light for other hurting hearts.


We’ll close out the year with a Blue Christmas service honoring our missing children and preparing our hearts to receive the life, love and light that is Emmanuel-God With Us-during the Christmas season and always.

Next year’s calendar is already filling with presentations to various local (but out of town for me) support groups, additional retreats (information to follow),
monthly gatherings, facilitating a book study through Our Hearts are Home and (hopefully) a couple of opportunities to speak to pastors and others in ministry about how to help grieving parents.

You’ll be able to find these on the website calendar.

I’m developing several one or two page handouts for bereaved parent group leaders, pastors, social workers, healthcare workers and funeral homes to help them connect others to resources and ministries that support and encourage grieving parents.

I hope to have the first ones ready by January.

Look for that announcement here, on the website and on Facebook.

So what can you do to help the ministry continue to grow?

  • PRAY! For wisdom, strength, endurance and obedience to follow the Lord where He leads me. Also pray for every heart seeking solace, that the Lord will bring them to this ministry or one of the many others pointing to the hope found in Jesus Christ.
  • CLICK, CLICK, CLICK! On the website (you don’t even have to read anything) so Google Analytics notices and begins to return it in searches made by bereaved parents.
  • SHARE, SHARE, SHARE! The website, this blog site, the public Facebook page to help get the word out.
  • And, if the Lord leads you to join in this work by giving, you can use this link: https://square.link/u/cNen14Q1

Child loss has been my greatest challenge, my deepest pain and my most profound misery.

But is has also been the very place God has met me with the greatest comfort, the deepest compassion and the most profound revelation of Who He is.

In spite of everything I’ve endured, my hope remains unshaken and unshakeable.

The comfort I have received is now mine to give to others.

I am oh, so grateful for your partnership, prayers and encouragement that is making it possible.

May the Lord richly bless you as you have blessed me.

What Bereaved Parents Need From Extended Family

I get it-you have no clue what it’s like to say good-bye to a life you’ve birthed and fully expected to outlast your own.

I don’t even imagine you can understand because I’m living it and still trying to figure it out.

But there are some things you can do to help me walk this awful and unfathomably painful path.

Please, please, please know that my child is STILL my child. He is still counted in our family’s number. She remains one of the nieces and one of the grandchildren when we diagram our family tree.

So when you talk to others or tally numbers don’t exclude them.

My last earthly child is not an “only child”. Our mother doesn’t just have “one grandson”.

I need you to say his name! I long for you to share a beloved memory without choking out the details like it’s a chore instead of a privilege.

Can we make space for tears and joy in our family celebrations?

Could you message me privately before announcing the joyous news YOUR earthbound child is getting married or having a child so I can prepare my heart for the onslaught of “congratulations” posted across social media?

It’s not that I envy (well, maybe a little) your life.

It’s just that you can’t fathom mine.

I didn’t just lose my child once at a single point in time. I lose him again every time there is a milestone or celebration or moment when he SHOULD be there but isn’t.

I’m not asking you to walk on eggshells. That’s unfair and unfruitful.

I AM asking you to learn a new way of speaking about my child in Heaven.

He still exists.

He still matters.

He’s still very much a part of our family AND yours.

Fighting For Joy

I’ve had some struggles this past week.

Family is messy.

There’s tension between who I am as an individual and who I am as part of the unit.

I want, above all, to be light, love and life to the people I love and even beyond-to the people I interact with online and in person in more casual spaces.

But it’s hard.

I’ve been reminded that the only way I can remain grounded in this world is to help my heart remember that this world is not all there is.

Heaven is my true home.

And when my flesh is exhausted, frustrated and overwhelmed with sadness I speak truth to my heart until it is ready to hear it.

❤ Melanie

I found that when I received the news of my son’s accident-it was Scripture I had hidden in my heart that helped me stand.

My Bible was available, but I could not open it. My heart was too broken to read.

But the Spirit brought to mind exactly what I needed from the storehouse of Scripture hidden in my heart.

I am still fighting for joy.  

Read the rest here: The Fight For Joy is Not for the Unarmed

It Slipped Up On Me: More Than Four Million Visits!

I have to be honest.

When I began writing in this space I thought I might reach family and friends I knew face-to-face (IRL for those of you familiar with social media speak).

I NEVER dreamt I’d reach people in other countries, on every continent, from such varied backgrounds.

But I shouldn’t be surprised.

A fuzzy photo of a map of every country in which at least one person logged onto thelifeididntchoose. From the tip of the world to the bottom, east to west, there are bereaved parents everywhere.


Child loss is (sadly) universal.

It doesn’t respect borders or socio-economic boundaries or age or race. It happens everywhere, every day to so, so many people.

What I’ve always tried to do is be honest and vulnerable.

I’ve exposed my heart and my helplessness. I promised myself and my readers I would not hide a thing.

And I haven’t.



I don’t keep close tabs on things like blog statistics because I don’t monetize it. So it crept up on me one day when I happened to glance at the little footnote on the sidebar there were over 4,000,000 folks who had visited the site.

I’m thankful for every one of you.

I’m thankful for the grief groups that choose to print the posts or share them electronically. I’m thankful for the comments and encouragement from other bereaved parents that fuel my continued resolve to show up and share how grief changes over time (and how it doesn’t).

I’m thankful for the friendships that have been forged over distance and time and the encouragement that flies back and forth in the comments.

I’m still learning so I plan to keep on sharing.

I hope you plan to join me.

Mirrors and Pictures are SO Hard. Still.

I hate mirrors.  Not because I’m ashamed of my wrinkles or my fat hips.  But because the face staring back at me now is not one I recognize.

I see someone who’s supposed to be me and can’t quite place her.

There’s a vague resemblance to the person that used to look me in the eye while I was brushing my teeth or fixing my hair.

But now, she is “other”, unfamiliar, strange in a “slightly off” kind of way.

Read the rest here:  No Mirrors, Please!

Dear Friend, I Would Not Cease Your Weeping…

I had a tearful day last week.

At more than ten years into this journey they don’t happen very often and when they do, it takes me by surprise-though it shouldn’t.

I finally had to simply go to bed, choose to call it a day, close my eyes and let sleep claim the sadness and grant blessed peace.❤

You’d think I’d know how valuable tears are by now.

But sometimes I forget.

Read the rest here: I Would Not Cease Your Weeping

There Are Days When Running Away Sounds Like the Perfect Thing to Do…

You know that scene in Forrest Gump where he starts running and just can’t stop?

I thought that was a funny way to deal with grief when I first saw the movie.

But now I understand it perfectly.  

run forrest run

If I could have started running, walking or even crawling away from the heartache in those first days and weeks I would have.  

Truth is, though, you can’t.  

Read the rest here: Can’t Run Away

It’s SO Important for Me to Tell My Story. It’s SO Important That You Listen.

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

For Bereaved Parents, This Is A Challenging Time of Year…

This time of year is especially challenging for those of us who miss a child who has run ahead to Heaven.

Across social media parents are lamenting the changes (they feel like they are “losing” their child) a new school year brings.

It takes a LOT of self-control to refrain from commenting on their so sad posts and pointing out that while it may be more difficult to see/talk to/visit with their child, it’s not impossible.

Read the rest here:It Ain’t Over Til It’s Over

We Are Only Missed By Those We Love Well

Busyness has become a national idol-we rush from commitment to commitment, signing up to fill every single minute with something, anything that makes us feel important, valuable, irreplaceable.

Of course we have job and family obligations-as we should-but we don’t feel fully accomplished until we have colored in the edges of our calendar until no white space remains.

Because we think that if we don’t show up, people will miss us.  We think that if WE don’t do this or that, it won’t get done.  We are absolutely certain that our input is critical to the success of every mission, every committee, every project.

Can I let you in on a little secret?  It’s not.

One of the inconvenient and difficult truths that has been burned in my brain since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven is this:  his absence didn’t make a bit of difference to the world at large.

Read the rest here: Who’s Gonna Miss You Baby?