blog posts – thelifeididntchoose

Navigating Grief: Why Am I Still Writing?

I ask myself this question often: Do I want to keep writing in this space?

Sometimes the answer is a resounding, “no!”.

Because while I love to write, some days it’s hard to put together words in a way others can understand. Sometimes I’m tired, or rushed or just tired of thinking about how grief and loss impact my life.

And then I ask the follow up: Do I still have anything to say?

That’s the one that keeps me here.

Because as soon as I think the answer is “no” to that question, a conversation or a comment thread or a personal experience brings up something that I feel I need or want to write about.

So I sit down and begin again.

I made a commitment in the beginning to be as honest as possible and I’ve done that the best I know how while protecting identities of those who are part of my story but who have their own stories to tell (should they choose).

I also promised to be transparent about my thoughts on God, on faith, on life everlasting. I feel like I’ve done that. In fact, I’m pretty sure some of my rambling has shocked friends and family from time to time. But I’m not afraid of shocking God. He knows my frame, knows my heart and cannot be made small by my questions or doubts.

I try to do research when appropriate to bring together resources and ideas for bereaved parents in one place.

One of the most frustrating things to me in the early months of missing Dominic was how hard it was to find good resources. The Internet is not your friend if you are looking for local and accessible help for practical problems. It was over a year and a half before I found a closed group of like-minded bereaved parents. But once I did, oh, what a difference that made in my journey!

So if you are interested in finding a safe, closed group, ask me. I know of several.

And then there’s the sweet comments that (usually) mamas send my way-either through Facebook or here. When someone writes that looking for the blog post each morning helps them get out of bed-well, that’s both encouragement and a serious responsibility. I don’t want to not show up and disappoint a heart. Even when all I have to offer is only my words.

So for now, at least, I plan to stay.

When my life circumstances make it impossible to carry on or I run out of things to say (which my mother will swear won’t happen!) then I’ll quit.

I send each post into cyberspace with a prayer-even for my readers who don’t believe in prayer:

“Father God, help each heart hold onto hope. Send a ray of sunshine into every cloudy day. Bring someone along who will listen, who will care and who will offer a hand to the one who is too weary and broken to take another step. Help them believe that they are seen, they are loved and that they matter. Overwhelm them with Your love, grace and mercy.”

You DO matter.

I DO care.

If you need to talk, message me.

If you need a safe space, I’ll direct you to it.

I’m not going anywhere.

Why Am I Still Writing About Loss Five Years Out?

I was one of those people years ago who set her sights on starting and maintaining a blog.

I thought I would post a few times a week and share anecdotes about my family and critters, insight into daily living and inspiration from Scripture and interesting quotes.

No, not THIS blog-the other two I started and quickly abandoned to who-knows-where in cyberspace.

Trouble was that the subject matter, while near and dear to my heart, wasn’t personally compelling enough to keep me disciplined and actively writing.

If someone had said, “Pick any topic to write about”, child loss wouldn’t have been in the first million choices.

No one CHOOSES child loss (Thus the name of the blog: The Life I Didn’t Choose).

But untold numbers of parents EXPERIENCE it every year. This very day, parents somewhere got a knock on the door or a phone call or sat next to a hospital bed as life slipped slowly from their child’s tired body.

Since I was already journaling and had walked this Valley for nearly a year and a half, it dawned on me that the ramblings I’d put down might be helpful to another heart. So I started THIS blog in September, 2015.

And I’ve been here ever since.

I’m not in the raw, breathless place I once was. But grief and loss are part of every breath I take, part of every moment I experience.

I miss Dominic. I still consider death an enemy. Every day I hate what was stolen and long for what was. I mourn the changes grief has wrought in my family. I wish things were different. I discover new ways loss impacts my life and new ways of coping with it.

So I keep writing.

I don’t want anyone to feel alone in this journey. I don’t want anyone to think there’s no way to survive. I don’t want a single broken heart to doubt that God is here and that He will help you hold onto hope.

I’ll spill my heart out in words until the words are exhausted.

It helps me.

I pray it helps others too.

How and Why I Keep Writing: A Shepherd’s Heart

I am still utterly amazed that since November 2015 I have managed a blog post every day.

At first, I was writing because I wanted to make public the things I was learning in this Valley and to honor my missing son.

He had been in Heaven a year and a half by then and it was clear to this mama’s heart that (1) people (including ME before it WAS me!) had absolutely NO IDEA what life after child loss was like once the funeral was over; (2) one way to redeem this pain was to share how God had been faithful even as I struggled; and (3) I just didn’t see too many honest portrayals of life after loss for Christ followers (which is not to say they didn’t/don’t exist but I hadn’t found them).

So I wrote.

Then I realized (much to my surprise!) that there were mamas (and a few daddies) hanging on by such a tenuous thread to hope that my meager attempt at redeeming this pain was strengthening their grasp.

Then it became a ministry.

Shepherding is in my blood.

I’ve been a shepherd my whole adult life-first to my own children and then to other children through various home school groups and activities. Then God granted a desire of my heart when He allowed me to become a “real” shepherd 20 years ago to a flock/herd of sheep and goats.

I’ve learned so, so much.

I’ve learned that consistency is key.

My herd depends on my faithful feeding and my peaceful presence. They love routine and hate change. They respond immediately to my voice and run straight to me when they are afraid.

They will endure nearly anything as long as they are assured it is from my loving hand.

I am not able to shepherd every heart that reads this blog.

But I hope that a bit of my shepherd’s love and care and compassion is present in each post.

My desire is that consistency helps the hearts that congregate here every morning. I long for my words to feed hope to you from time to time. I pray that routine gives you something to look forward to even on the hard day. I pray that I faithfully point you to the Shepherd of your soul who can provide shelter no matter where you are or what is chasing you.

I pray that together we can endure and persevere and finish strong and well.

I continue to write because I love you.

I continue to write because if a single post reaches a single heart on the verge of giving up and helps that heart hold onto hope, then it is worth every minute I spend thinking about, composing and producing these posts.

And, frankly, many of you have ministered hope to MY heart.

Dom left for Heaven about when my nest became empty. Thirty years of raising children and twenty-plus years of homeschooling came to an end right when my heart was dealt this grievous blow.

All the energy and time I had poured into shepherding my children was suddenly available for a new adventure at the very moment when adventure was the last thing on my mind.

Sharing has turned survival into something beautiful.

I am so thankful for that.

And I am oh, so grateful for each of you.

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