In the daylight
In the dark
In my dreams
Things creep in at the corner of my vision
Or sounds slip in unnoticed
Until my brain puts them together and screams, “Oh no!”.
Read the rest here: Swallowing Panic
In the daylight
In the dark
In my dreams
Things creep in at the corner of my vision
Or sounds slip in unnoticed
Until my brain puts them together and screams, “Oh no!”.
Read the rest here: Swallowing Panic
Moms usually put themselves last.
That’s especially true around the holidays.
And while there was a time when I could manage on too little sleep and too much caffeine, those days are over!
Age is part of it but hauling sorrow around and trying to pretend I’m not is part of it too.
So today I’m reminding myself (and probably some of y’all!) that taking time for self care isn’t a luxury, it’s a necessity.
❤ Melanie
My first instinct as a mother and a shepherd is always, “How can I help?”
I routinely set aside my own needs for the needs of others. Not because I’m so selfless but because that’s how I’m made-I’ve always had the heart of a caretaker.
That’s not a bad thing, most of the time.
But if taking care of others means NOT taking care of myself, then in the end, I’m of no use to anyone. When I allow every bit of energy-emotional, physical, psychological and spiritual-to drain away until there’s nothing left, I am unable to meet my most basic needs, much less the needs of others.
I’ve written before that grief puts a hole in my bucket. It guarantees that no matter how much is poured in, I’m never truly full.
I’ve also written about setting boundaries and trying to preserve margin as I walk this Valley. I have to create space between me and the people around me if I’m going to make it through.
But there are some other steps I can take to help ensure my heart is strong enough for the journey. It’s not always about what I don’t do.
Sometimes it’s about what I choose TO do.
Here are some ideas for self-care in grief (or really ANY hard place in life):
Grief is a lifelong process-a marathon, not a sprint.
Maintaining space to do the work grief requires and engaging in activities and health habits that help me do that work is the only way to endure.

This has been an odd (to put it mildly) Christmas season. I haven’t done half of what I normally do and now there’s no time to catch up and do it.
I’ve been off balance since mid-September, hanging on by the seat of my pants and just barely managing the necessities.
So I really, really, really needed to read what I wrote several years ago.
Back then there was no chance I’d produce a full-fledged, decked out spread for Christmas. But I’ve gotten better at it since.
Just not this year. So if you are falling behind or falling down, you’re not alone!
❤ Melanie
So many ways to be reminded of how hard it is to hold on in these days and weeks around Christmas.
If your heart is barely able to beat, the pressure to be “hap-hap-happy” can send you over the edge.
If your home is empty of cheerful voices, the constant barrage of commercials touting family togetherness can leave you feeling oh, so lonely.
Early sunsets and darker nights send feel-good hormones flying and leave a body aching for just a little relief from anxious and depressing thoughts.

When you think you can’t hold on, let go.
Read the rest here: When You Think You Can’t Hold On
It’s tempting to line up our friends and acquaintances in columns under headings of “perfect family”, “good christian”, “struggling addict” or “hopeless case”.
When I label someone I justify my response-good or bad-and let myself off the hook for sharing the extravagant, unrestrained love God has shown to me.
The longer I live, the more people I meet, the more certain I am that the neat little categories we like to use are not very helpful.
If I decide they are “doing well” then they don’t need my help.
And if I decide they are “beyond hope” then why waste my time or effort?
Either way, I’m wrong.
Christmas is the story of God come down-Emmanuel-of Love reaching down into a dark and lonely world. It was hardly tidy, it was a Messy Christmas
I’ll never forget one Christmas when I and some other moms organized a craft day for our preschool kids at a local church.
In our youthful enthusiasm, we thought doing homemade cards accented by glitter was a good idea. Boy, were we wrong!
Those bits of metallic bliss went everywhere-in hair, on clothes, in the carpet…we spent twice as much time trying to clean up as we spent making memories with the children. Never again!
So this quote about grief and glitter really struck home in my heart.
❤ Melanie
Every now and then I run across a quote or a meme that is perfect.
This is one of them.
Read the rest here: Grief Glitter, Tucked In Every Corner
If your heart cannot bear the thought of one more holly, jolly song, one more hap-hap-happy get together, one more frenzied rush to the store for a forgotten present or pantry item-just choose to sit this one out.
It is possible to go through the month of December without caving in to consumerism or being guilted into celebrating when your heart’s not in it.
Close the blinds. Let the telephone go to voicemail. Fast from social media and turn off the TV.
Read the rest here: “Get Out of Christmas Free” Card
Getting Christmas cards out on time was always a challenge in my busy household.
So for the last years of kids at home, we transitioned to sending New Year’s greetings. It was easier to get a family photo with everyone home for Christmas, there was no artificial deadline to send them and we could include a “thank you” or respond to news in their Christmas letters.
I hadn’t sent anything for three years.
What could I say?
And a family photo was out of the question.
Read the rest here: Christmas Cards-Yes? No? Maybe?
My heart beats with Mary’s. She knew and understood part of what was going on but had no way to anticipate or comprehend precisely what it meant to be the mother of Messiah.
She pondered the shepherds’ visit and their story.
I’ve pondered too.
Read the rest here: Advent: Ponder and Praise
It was a long time before I wanted to believe that I received any gifts worth keeping from this life I didn’t choose.
I knew I had tears, pain, agonizing sorrow, loss, heartache, dashed hopes, empty arms.
If I could give those back and regain my son, I would do it in less than a heartbeat.
I can’t, so I’m left here to ponder what else I’ve received from burying a child.
And I am learning that I have been given some gifts I truly cherish, although the price was higher than I would have willingly paid.
Read the rest here: Grace Gifts of Grief
It’s popular in books, self-help articles and even in some grief groups for people to declare , “Child loss does not (will not, should not) define me”.
And while I will defend to the end another parent’s right to walk this path however seems best and most healing to him or her, to that statement I say, “Bah! Humbug!”
Child loss DOES define me.
It defines me in the same way that motherhood and marriage define me.
Read the rest here: Child Loss DOES Define Me