The Bible says that “The Name of the LORD is a strong tower, the righteous run to it and are saved.” (Proverbs 18:10)
Clearly that does NOT mean that every person who calls on the Name of the LORD will be kept physically whole.
Many, many believers have suffered and died while the name of Christ is on their lips.
But I do believe that in a very real, very meaningful way, calling on the Name of the LORD has saved me.
Read the rest here: When I Don’t Know What to Pray: Praying the Names of God
One of the most devastating questions I had to face after Dominic ran ahead to heaven was, “What difference does prayer make?”
I had prayed-diligently prayed-for every one of my children since before they were born.
Even Dominic’s name, which means “belonging to God” was chosen carefully to reflect my heart’s desire that this child follow hard after Jesus.
Dominic had served Christ’s church with his time, talents and resources his whole life. Yet he was not quite 24 when he met Jesus face to face.
So why didn’t prayer “work”? Why did my son die in an accident when others live?
Read the rest here: Prayer After Child Loss: What’s the Point?
One of the hardest questions after child loss has been, “If God hears my prayers, and my prayers make a difference, why didn’t He protect my son?”
It’s not something a mama’s heart can just ignore.
So, because it comes up again and again, and because I hope my musings might help another heart, I’m going to dedicate a few days to do that.
When it’s not your kid you can think of all kinds of lofty, theologically correct arguments or reasons for why God answers one prayer and not another–for why one person is healed and not another–for why one person survives a devastating-should-have-killed-him accident but not another.
But when it is your child that doesn’t survive or isn’t healed or is stolen through the violent actions of someone else…well, that’s a different matter entirely.
Read the rest here: The Problem of [Un]Answered Prayer
Some of us only felt tiny hands and feet pressing against the inside of our body.
Some of us saw first steps or first grade.
Some of us watched our child drive away to college certain it was the beginning of an adventure, not the beginning of the end.
Some of us have grandchildren reflecting back a smile or gesture or tone of voice that it so much like the one we miss.
All of us know what it is to lose more than any heart can bear-and yet we DO bear it-every. single. day.
None of us would give up whatever time we had even knowing how hard it is to go on without them. ❤
It took me awhile to “feel” God again after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.
I would journal my thoughts/prayers/questions and answer myself with Scripture.
My heart was still so very shattered that the words often slid right off.
But eventually, as I kept speaking truth to my heart and waiting on God, I heard them again.
I won’t lie and say that I often or even regularly get the goosebumps I used to get when I sing worship songs or read a section of Scripture.
I have something else, though, and that is rock-solid confidence in the promises of God to redeem and renew even if I, like the prophet Habakkuk, will have to live this life in a state of loss, want and under the tyranny of circumstances I’d rather avoid.
So I cling to that truth with both hands even when it seems the Lord is silent or far away.
“The Lord God is my Strength, my personal bravery, and my invincible army; He makes my feet like hinds’ feet and will make me to walk [not to stand still in terror, but to walk] and make [spiritual] progress upon my high places [of trouble, suffering, or responsibility]!”
~Habakkuk 3:19 AMPC
The times when I am lonely can help me focus on God more intimately. I can speak quite freely and honestly with the Lord. And even if there is silence from the Heavens when I pray, I know that the Lord hears me. He speaks back through His written Word. In these moments, I truly feel the presence of the One that Jesus rightly called The Comforter — The Holy Spirit. Yes, I know that conversations with God are not the same as with a tangible person in the room. But sometimes they are much deeper, going straight to the heart.
~Warren Ludwig, Jewels in the Junkyard
Life after child loss can be described in various ways.
But any that ring true convey a sense that in an instant, everything is different, shattered, scattered, obliterated, changed.
I like this quote by Tolkien:
It’s the threads, the shards, the broken bits that I will spend a lifetime trying to gather, save and weave or glue back together.
It will never be what it was, but it can still be something.
I will always carry the scars.
The scars are proof of my love.
❤
Here they come round the bend like a pack of dogs chasing that rabbit on a racetrack.
No way to slow them down, no way to step to the side and ward off the relentless message that Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming soon-so, so soon.
Stores scream, “You’ve got to buy it NOW! You’re running out of time!”
Billboards, radio and television ads, and calendars count down the days.
Decorations assault my eyes and ears and nose (thank you pumpkin everything!). I cannot get away. There’s no where to hide
Read the rest here: Trying to Hold off the Holidays
Dominic’s death has made me angry at times.
And I really don’t have anyone on whom to focus that anger.
I can blame Dom, but what will that do for my heart?
I can be angry at God, but the truth is, I have too long a history with Him to think that He is punishing me or that He isn’t the loving Father I know Him to be.
So often I end up casting blame on those who don’t live up to my standards of how they SHOULD be walking alongside me in this Valley.
Because all that anger has to go somewhere, right?
Sad thing is, right when I need friends most, if I’m spending my time picking them apart because they aren’t approaching me in the most helpful ways or, worse-avoiding me altogether-then I am guaranteeing I’ll be alone and lonely.
It does hurt when folks say the wrong thing, don’t say anything or let mention of my missing son fall like a lead ball between us.
But most often it isn’t because they MEAN to hurt me, it’s because they don’t know what to say or how to act.
Child loss and its lifelong aftermath is largely a secret in Western society.
Even many mental health professionals don’t recognize its ongoing impact on a heart and life.
I’m beginning to suspect that most of the people I know have been and are doing the best they can to walk alongside me in this Valley. And, well, if it looks a little awkward or is kind of an on again/off again thing-I’ll give grace.
Blaming is easy.
But it pushes hearts apart.
Right when I need them to come closer.
Even though I purpose to be authentic and open about how Dominic’s absence impacts my life, I find that I may go days or weeks without realizing I’m stuffing things again.
Most of the time I figure it out because the grief has found the path of least resistance and leaked onto other people or has made me sick, tired or both.
When I catch myself overreacting to the less than attentive store clerk or avoiding phone calls or snapping at family members I need to take a moment and search for what’s behind that.
When I dread another day, sit for too long in my chair instead of getting up and getting going, procrastinate over simple and easy tasks, have trouble sleeping or am achy all over I need to reexamine my week and see what grief triggers I overlooked or tried to ignore.
At first I was very aware of carrying the load of grief and sorrow-tears made it obvious and impossible to ignore.
But as time has progressed (now 4 1/2 years) I find I can seem to breeze right past things that would have stopped me in my tracks during the first twelve months.
Still, they DO pluck at my heart even if I think they don’t.
And if I refuse to drag those feelings out into the light, they will find their own path.
Grief will not be denied forever.
It leaks out somewhere.
Better for me to face up, own it and choose how it comes out.
Oh, sometimes I think I’m clever enough to do it.
I edit my words, costume my body and fix my face so I can act the part. But truth is, I never manage to fool anyone who looks closer than my plastic smile.
I can’t hide my heart.
And I don’t know why I try-I don’t get points for pretending.
There’s no prize at the end of this long road for the one who makes it with fewest tears.
Read the rest here: Zero Points for Pretending: You Can’t Hide Your Heart
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