Tag: child loss

I Wish I May, I Wish I Might, I Wish I Could Forget Tonight…

Driving home in the dark from several weeks of Mama D duty, I was listening to an old-fashioned, very tame (by today’s standards!) BBC Agatha Christie podcast.

Suddenly the previously entertaining and mindless fare took a turn that plunged me into over an hour of mental wrestling.

One of the characters commented on the face of the deceased and said something like he “looked frightened and astonished”, his last emotion etched forever on his countenance.

THAT was enough to send this mama’s thoughts down an unfruitful and completely horrifying rabbit trail.

I wish that at almost eight years I could reach for a switch to shut out unwelcome images but so far I haven’t found one. I wish I could just will myself to ignore questions about what Dom might have felt, thought or said in the last microseconds of his life. I wish I didn’t know as much as I do about what happened.

I wish I knew more about how Jesus takes His beloved to Heaven.

These intrusive thoughts don’t come as often as they once did and I am (usually) better at pinning them down, changing my thinking and forcing my heart and mind to focus on something else.

But sometimes,

in the dark

when I’m especially tired and vulnerable,

they take over once again.

Lenten Reflections: Fasting Comparison and Choosing Relationship

Today’s devotional is focused on Jesus in the Garden and the disciples He asked to keep watch and pray.

Three times the Lord went further into the garden, fell down sorrowing and returned to find His disciples asleep.

I identify both with Jesus begging His companions to keep watch and with the disciples for closing their heavy lids as sorrow overtook them. I want someone to be awake and alert, praying for me in my despair but can find it hard to do that for others as the weight of their sadness makes sleep a welcome escape.

If you have ever been exhausted from sorrow, you probably can empathize with the disciples. Summoning the will to keep watch in such seasons is strenuous. Sometimes I, like the disciples, have defaulted to my pillow instead of to prayer in the denial-laden hope that somehow all would be set right again when I opened my eyes.

Alicia Britt Chole

Discouragement and despair make us vulnerable to lies.

We are apt to begin to believe the dark whispers of the enemy of our soul who tells us that it doesn’t matter what we do or what we believe, God isn’t listening and doesn’t care.

But that’s simply not true.

Jesus fixed His eyes on the prize and prayed His way through to the courage and conviction necessary for the cross.

Comparison is the enemy of contentment.

And discontent is the root of bitterness.

When I compare how I think (because I really only see part) God is dealing with others with how He is dealing with me (again, I only see part of the picture) my heart can take a nasty turn down a path that leads me away from the very Father that loves me more than I can imagine.

Paul said, “I have learned to be content no matter where I am or what circumstances I find myself in” (paraphrased).

THAT is the foundation of faithful obedience and a life of willing sacrifice.

So today, quit comparing.

Stop basing your commitment to following Jesus on how you think He might be dealing with others.

Instead trust that the One who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it.

**As promised, I am sharing thoughts on 40 DAYS OF DECREASE (a Lenten journal/devotional). If you choose to get and use the book yourself, I’ll be a day behind in sharing so as not to influence anyone else’s experience.**

Violence and Trauma Mark a Soul

I first shared this a few years ago when there was a string of suicides linked to previous school shootings.

It made me think about all the ways violence and trauma (even without overt violence) marks a soul. But it’s hardly limited to school shootings.

Truth is, there are people all around us every. single. day. who have experienced some sort of trauma and we rarely realize it. They are doing the best they can to get on with life, to fit in with society, to fulfill whatever roles they have to play.

And often they do it so well that it’s not until they absolutely can’t take it anymore we realize what a heavy burden they’ve been carrying all along.

We need to normalize asking for help.

❤

Witnessing or experiencing horror scars a heart.  And society rarely does a good job making room for the kind of work it takes for that heart to even begin to heal.

Feel-good news stories about activism, heroism and turning tragedy into triumph send a signal that if you can’t “get over it“, “overcome” or “become stronger” in the wake of the most awful day of your life, you aren’t trying hard enough.

But the truth is that most people DO try. 

They try and try and try but trying isn’t enough.  Tragedy and trauma change a person and no matter how much they may want to go back to the “old” them, they just can’t. 

And that is OK. 

Read the rest here: Aftermath Of Violence: Trauma Marks a Soul

Lenten Reflections: Fasting Noise, Embracing the Still, Small Voice of the Lord

I am a great lover of silence.

So today’s fast shouldn’t be that difficult for me-except that it is.

Fasting sound when I’m trying to do it on purpose and setting aside time specifically to listen for the still, small voice of the Lord can be a real challenge.

The enemy of my soul loves nothing more than to clutter my mind and heart with random bits of sound and information to crowd out the holy hush that makes space for hearing my Father’s singing over my spirit.

I recently re-read “A Grief Observed” by C.S. Lewis.

It comforts me that this man who was an intellectual giant, a creative genius, and a thoughtful and capable apologist for the Gospel, struggled just like me when faced with the sorrow, pain, loss and questions of grief.

And, contrary to what I wish were true there are not answers available for every question.

Quoting Bible verses does not soothe every frayed nerve.

There are not rock-solid assurances that sweep away every doubt.

Being in one’s own company alone with God is challenging.  

Without the noise of outside distraction I am forced to face my fears and hidden darkness.  

with you always

And in the quiet I find that the easy answers leave me empty and unsatisfied.  I must listen carefully for the still, small Voice that whispers comfort.

In the end, it is to Jesus Himself that I must cling.

Today, attempt to fast sounds for an hour. Turn off your music, TV, and phone. Power down anything that beeps or buzzes or blinks. Then attend to your responses. Are you restless or restful without the filler?

Is your mind more or less distractible? Is the aloneness comforting or unsettling?

Ask God to reveal to you the power this world’s sounds have in your life. Then ask Him to reveal to you the power His sounds have in your soul.

Alicia Britt Chole

**As promised, I am sharing thoughts on 40 DAYS OF DECREASE (a Lenten journal/devotional). If you choose to get and use the book yourself, I’ll be a day behind in sharing so as not to influence anyone else’s experience.**

This Is Why We Turn Away

The news goes out over Facebook, over phone lines, over prayer chains and everyone shows up.

Crowds in the kitchen, in the living room, spilling onto the lawn.

It’s what you do.

And it’s actually the easiest part.  Lots of people, lots of talking, lots of activity keep the atmosphere focused on the deceased and the family.  The conversation rarely dips to deeper waters or digs into harder ground:  “Where was God?”;  “Why him?”;  “Why do ‘bad’ things happen to ‘good’ people?”

But eventually the busyness and noise gives way to stillness and silence.

That’s when the harder part starts.

Read the rest here: Why Do We Turn Away?

Through The Fog and Dark: A Poem

Through the fog and dark and limits of my sight

I hear birds singing

as they welcome the day

I still can’t see.

Read the rest here: Through The Fog And Dark

Child Loss: The Power of [Context]

This is how I like to think of us-together and strong.

Our circle is broken now and it is a continuing struggle to figure out how to navigate life in the wake of our loss.

This time of year is especially challenging as all the lasts leading up the final last come flooding back.

❤

This picture was taken for a story in UAB Magazine featuring my husband and oldest son who graduated together in December 2009. You can read the original article here: Like Father, Like Son

It is one of my very favorites. I was surrounded by my family, filled with pride and promise.

This is how I like to think of us-together and strong.

Our circle is broken now-it is a continuing struggle to figure out how to navigate life in the wake of our loss.

And some of the greatest challenges present themselves in unexpected ways.

Read the rest here: [Context]

Grief Is A Forest of Sorrow

One of the things I realized early on this journey was that I did not possess the vocabulary for the deep pain, unbearable sorrow and relentless longing I was experiencing.

So I sought out quotes, fellow travelers and groups of others who shared this awful path.

It helped.

It didn’t take away the pain but it gave me words to express it. It gave me courage to believe I could survive it.

I will never forget those who chose to come back with a torch in the dark and light the way.

❤

There are so many ways to describe grief.

So many ways individual hearts walk this path.

For many of us there’s a sense of being locked in time, stuck in space, unable to leave the moment one received the news or the few days before and after.

It’s maddening that the earth still turns, the sun still rises and people go on with life when in so many ways our world is frozen in place.

Read the rest here: Forest of Sorrow

Child Loss and Nagging Guilt

I should have known.  I should have been there.  I should have called, texted, spoken one more warning or given one more hug.

Should.  Should?  Should!

wistful woman looking out wet window

I have yet to speak to a bereaved parent who does not harbor guilt of some kind over the death of his or her child.

Not one.

Read the rest here: Nagging Guilt in Child Loss

A Stronger Faith: An Extended Conversation and Podcast With Stacy McCants

Most of the time I share my grief journey in this space, but occasionally I’ve been asked to share in person at retreats or on the air for podcasts.

I’ll be honest, I’m much less comfortable speaking with no chance to edit my remarks versus typing them out and re-reading, rearranging and refining my message.

But when asked by a friend of a friend to meet with Stacy McCants, to have a wide-ranging, honest and God-focused discussion about child loss, grief in general and the intersection of faith and traumatic experience, I said, “yes”.

It was definitely outside my comfort zone.

Stacy helped my on-air jitters by promising to edit out any glaring mistakes or uncomfortable pauses. We sat across the table from one another in his home studio and cover a wide range of topics from loss to the ministry of the Holy Spirit and the importance of Scriptural truth.

It’s REALLY long-slightly over two hours so you might want to download it and listen in small doses.

But if you’ve ever wanted to hear my voice, hear my opinions on a variety of topics or just prefer listening to reading, you might find it interesting.

So here’s the link: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/a-stronger-faith/id1537979374?i=1000554053453