Shout It From the Rooftops: Death Matters

I always knew it deep in my spirit but until death walked across MY threshold I was able to ignore it: Death Matters.

Death-in every form-reminds me that this world is not as God intended.

It reminds me that Christ’s sacrifice was necessary.

I reminds me that earth is not my true home.

There are some days I hate the burden of knowing intimately how very much death matters.

❤ Melanie

2016: Death Matters

This talk that death doesn’t matter, that the grave isn’t awful and that separation from the ones we love for the duration of our earthly sojourn is not all that bad in light of eternity upsets me.

Revisit the first three chapters of Genesis and you understand.

God’s original creation did not include death.

Read the rest here: Death Matters

2017: Curating Grief

I wrote this post 18 months ago after a number of incidents when friends and family members tried to tell me how long to grieve, what my grieving should look like and (most hurtful) how my son would want me to grieve.

I rejected that notion then, and I reject it now.

Most of us have taken a class or two in literature–we read other people’s writing and sit around discussing “what it really means”.  My husband has always scoffed at the notion that anyone but the author knows that.

Me–I love books, plays and poetry so I’ve spent a lifetime reading and trying to interpret the meaning of others’ words.

But now I find I’m leaning more toward my husband’s point of view.

One of the challenges I face as a grieving parent is finding that other people want to interpret my experience for me.

Read the rest here:  curating grief

2018: Should I Do Something? YES!

It’s possible to stand frozen at the corner of good intentions and helpful action.

I’ve done it dozens of times.

And every time I’ve allowed myself to swallow “but I don’t know what to do” and done nothing I’ve regretted it.

Every. Single. Time.

So I’m here to tell you that when you get that urge, feel that itch, hear that still, small voice that says, “DO something“, then do it.

Read the rest here: Should I DO Something? Yes. Absolutely.

Walking Out The Worry

Sit. Soak. Sour.

It happens to milk left out of the fridge and it happens to people too.

If all I do is sit in a chair, soak up the news, social media rants and talk show ravings, I’ll end up sad and sour.

Grumpy (Disney) | Heroes Wiki | Fandom

I don’t want to do that.

So I get outside and soak up the sunshine and fresh air instead.

I know everyone doesn’t have the option to walk for over a mile on their own property but even in the strictest of the locked down states, there are parks, sidewalks and other outdoor spaces you could visit.

My walking companions.

Sit on your stoop if you have to.

But just get outside, for goodness sake!

Turn off the screens screaming fearful headlines, walk away from the four walls that feel like they are closing in on you, open a window at least and stick your head out.

Road Trips and Car Travel With Your Dog | Currents Veterinary Centre

If you really, truly can’t manage any outside time or fresh air, grow something.

Remember when you were a kid and mom or grandma cut the tops off carrots and put them in a shallow dish? They will grow fluffy greenery in a few days.

Watching the progress of any living thing is balm to a weary soul.

Carrot Top Experiment - Red Kite Days

Even grocery stores sell potted plants or herbs in most places. Buy a few. They’ll improve indoor air quality as well as providing a diversion from worry.

When all a heart thinks about is death, destruction and dire news, it shrinks into a hardened ball.

It becomes increasingly difficult to feel anything but fear or anger or bitterness.

Sour. Dour. Persnickety. Cranky. Grumpy.

I'm cranky in the morning. (With images) | Snoopy, Snoopy quotes

That’s not how I want to be and it’s probably not how you want to be either.

So get up. Break the habit of soaking in bad news.

Get some fresh air and sunshine if you can or at least create your own little corner of green.

Refresh your soul and feed it hope.