Tag: death

A Peek Inside My Heart: What Grieving Parents Want You to Know

For the next few days I’m probably going to be cycling through some posts that received the most response from readers.  A family member is facing serious and complex surgery Monday, October 24th and I’m going to be focused on that.

If I get a chance, I’ll add new content-but as all of us know, there’s no telling what a day will bring.

Until then, I hope that if you missed these, they will be helpful or if you’ve forgotten about them, they will be refreshing and encouraging again.

 

“People say, “I can’t imagine.“

But then they do.

They think that missing a dead child is like missing your kid at college or on the mission field but harder and longer.

That’s not it at all.”

Read the rest: What Grieving Parents Want Others to Know

Falling Leaves

We think leaves fall when we turn the calendar page to Autumn months.

Piles of red, gold and orange land beneath trees that grow increasingly barren until one day they are truly naked.

But leaves begin to fall as early as July-hardly noticed because they drift down lonely, one by one.  

single-leaf

No one is looking for them then.  

And green grass grows tall to hide them.

We think people live to the fullness of years.  They begin in spring and pass through all the seasons before the cold winter claims them.

old-lady

But some survive only one season, or two–never enjoying the fruitful harvest of the latter years the younger years of hard work are meant to produce.

Unlike early falling leaves, early deaths are perceived and acknowledged.

Shocking and unexpected, people gather round to discuss the tragedy, the sorrow and the lost future of one who dies young.

IMG_1811

But then they go away-caught up in the seasons of their own lives.  

And the green grass grows tall to hide the ones who left too soon.

No one is looking for them anymore.  

old homeplace

 

 

Can’t Have it Both Ways…

At this stage in my grief journey I have learned to exercise the “just ignore it” muscle that allows me to scroll through Facebook without taking comments personally.

Most of the time.

But yesterday a grieving mama posted a tribute to her missing daughter complete with a beautiful photo collage and a sweet message that included sharing her feelings.

This mama revealed that her heart was broken, that she missed her daughter and that she was oh, so proud of her and thankful for the years they had together.

Many comments were simply, “Praying for you” or “Love you”.

But one comment stuck out.  This person said, “She wouldn’t want you to be sad.  She’s at peace in heaven with Jesus.” 

Really??!!  

How is that helpful?  

In a single line you have dismissed this mama’s honest and appropriate feelings and implied you know her daughter better than she does.

Of course she’s in heaven with Jesus.  As believers in Christ we know that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.

But knowing that, trusting that truth makes grief easier to bear, it does not erase it.

Paul wrote to the Thessalonians, “We do not grieve as those without hope.” (I Thess. 4:13)

NOT “We do not grieve.”

Here’s something you need to know: hurting with hope still hurts. The sting of death might have been removed, but it still stings. No, we might not sorrow as those who have no hope, but that doesn’t mean we won’t be sad.

Levi Lusko, Through the Eyes of a Lion

Grief is the price we pay for love.  

Grief is an appropriate and proportionate response to the death (the end of earthly companionship) of someone we love.

If grief is small, what does that say about love?

It can’t be both ways.  

We cannot celebrate a mother’s love and then dismiss her grief.

So my answer to that comment was this:

It’s perfectly OK to be sad.  Death is awful. And missing is hard. Praying that the Lord will bring a special memory-one that has been tucked away in your hearts but mostly forgotten-to mind today and that it will bring a smile to your lips. May you feel the Lord’s Presence today and may He sing a song of love, grace and mercy over your shattered heart

God’s grief over a world of people doomed to eternal separation from Himself was to send His only Son as a sacrifice.

Why was the grief so great?  Why was He willing to pay that price?

Because His love is infinitely greater.  

Image result for image john 3 16

 

 

 

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.

It was beautiful.  It was perfect.  It was good.

Sin brought death.  Blood was spilt because only blood can cover sin.

Every time a living thing dies, it’s a reminder of the high cost of sin.

It’s a reminder that the world is not as God intended.

It’s a reminder that there is something better, something more real and perfect than this place we live in now.

It is an undeniable reminder of God’s great love for us and the price He was willing to pay to lavish that love on us.  

A friend wrote this to me and my heart cried, “Yes!”

“I do not think it belittles life or the present to say “I am left inconsolable by love”.  I think God made us to love like this.  I think our grief is what it means to Love.  And how He feels about us. Inconsolable longing and agony.”

We should not dismiss death.

We cannot make it small.  

death matters lewis

 

Unnatural

All the fears I thought I knew

All the what-ifs I pondered during inky nights-

None of them-none. of. them. prepared me for this reality.

I have thought many times of  my own death.  Anyone past twenty-five has to consider that the farther you get from high school the closer you get to the grave.

So I put foolish and risky behavior behind me.  Eat fiber.  Exercise.  

Wise choices, that’s the ticket. 

But what about random?  What about unexpected?  What about lightning strikes and sudden curves?

How do you plan for that?

I know I’ll end some day.  That’s the way of things.  And I’m OK with that.

My children.  

They are my legacy.  They are the keepers of my light.

They are the part of me that will live beyond me.

Except one of them.

I am his legacy-the unanticipated keeper of HIS light.

It’s not supposed to be this way.

Yet here I am.

Unnatural.  Unacceptable.

Unthinkable.

Inescapably real.

 

Can’t Hide the Ugly

Yesterday I was impatient and ugly with someone I love.

When you are hurting, physically or emotionally or physically AND emotionally, you just don’t have the energy to hide the ugly.

But the pain didn’t create the ugly-it just revealed it.

And I am sorry to say that even burying a child did not cleanse me of some ugliness I wish I didn’t have in my heart.

I keep asking God to fill me with His love, mercy and grace.  And I am more full of those things than before.

But there is still plenty of (if not hate then) less-than-love, judgement and impatience. Trials don’t automatically lead to refinement or stronger faith.

Tribulation can drive someone away from God as easily as it can drive them to their knees.

If I’m not careful-if I’m not very careful-I can use my pain as an excuse for all kinds of bad behavior.

So I’m here to confess:  I am so, so sorry.

I’m sorry that when my glass gets tipped, anger and bitterness spills out. I’m sorry that I’m not more faithful to extend grace when I hope grace will be extended to me.  I’m sorry that speaking truth so that I prove my point and wound a heart is sometimes more satisfying than speaking truth in love.

I wish every  deed I did  and every word I spoke was full of life and never full of death.

I hate death.  I. HATE. death.

It has taken enough from me. And I want no part of it.

Father, I want to be a beacon of light and life.  Lord, make me so.  Fill me to overflowing with YOUR love, YOUR life, YOUR grace, YOUR mercy.  Left to myself I have no hope.  But by Your Spirit, it can be so.

When all kinds of trials and temptations crowd into your lives my brothers, don’t resent them as intruders, but welcome them as friends! Realise that they come to test your faith and to produce in you the quality of endurance. But let the process go on until that endurance is fully developed, and you will find you have become men of mature character with the right sort of independence. And if, in the process, any of you does not know how to meet any particular problem he has only to ask God—who gives generously to all men without making them feel foolish or guilty—and he may be quite sure that the necessary wisdom will be given him.

James 1:2-5 PHILLIPS

 

The Shadowlands

 

Isn’t God supposed to be good? Isn’t He supposed to love us? Does God want us to suffer? What if the answer to that question is, ‘Yes'”? I suggest to you that it is because God loves us that He makes us the gift of suffering.

I’m not sure that God wants us to be happy. I think He wants us to be able to love and be loved. He wants us to grow-up. We think our childish toys bring us all the happiness there is and our nursery is the whole wide world. But something must drive us out of the nursery to the world of others and that something is suffering.

You see, we are like blocks of stone out of which the sculptor carves forms of men. The blows of His chisel, which hurt so much, are what makes us perfect.

C.S. Lewis

Lewis referred to this life as “The Shadowlands”.  The place where we see the shape of the promise but not its substance.

I am caught between the world I live in and the world to come.  There is beauty in both, but only in Eternity will my heart be at home.

Right now, I am Living Between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection

not your best life

 

 

 

 

 

Resurrection Power

I’m uncomfortable here in this world.

This world where children die and people hurt one another and justice is denied and babies go hungry.

I long for the day prophesied in Isaiah when the lion will lie down with the lamb, swords will be ploughshares and death will be banished forever.

Paul wrote:

All I want is to know Christ and to experience the power of his resurrection, to share in his sufferings and become like him in his death, in the hope that I myself will be raised from death to life.

Philippians 3:10-11 GNT

He wasn’t only talking about the final resurrection, when all in Christ shall rise and reign forever with their Savior.

He was also talking about the earthly resurrection-of life breathed into who we are and what we do by the Spirit of God living in us.

It’s exciting to think about the life of Christ residing in me.  It’s not so exciting to consider the death of self that must precede that life.

But

Without death, there is no resurrection.  

Without destruction, there is no restoration.

Without surrender, there is no victory.

My heart rebels against this.

I want life without death.  I want resurrection power without the grave.  I want to know Jesus more intimately without being stripped bare and standing naked before Him.

But that is impossible.  

To be a follower of the Crucified means , sooner or later, a personal encounter with the cross. And the cross always entails loss. The great symbol of Christianity means sacrifice and no one who calls himself a Christian can evade this stark fact.

Elisabeth Elliot

I realized very soon after the news of Dominic’s death reached my ears that the last vestige of pride had been ripped from my heart by force.

I was, and am, in the dust.

I cannot raise myself from this prostrate position.  I cannot breathe life into this dead body. I cannot, by force of will, pick up and keep going.

I am fully reliant on the God Who made me to give me life.

But Thou, O Lord, art a shield for me, my glory and the lifter up of mine head.

Psalm 3:3 KJV21

This isn’t news to God, it’s always been true.  

But He has opened my eyes.

Forced to face the darkness of the grave, I can more fully appreciate the light of His promise.

victory over death

 

Grieving Together: Surviving Siblings

“Family means no one gets left behind or fogotten”~David Ogden Stiers

We are in this together, and part of my job as mom to the children still walking the earth with me  is to help them survive the loss of their brother.

I write about that here: Helping My Children Walk Through Grief

Keep On Keeping On

The months roll by, the calendar pages turn, soon school will be back in session and you are still not here.

Sometimes I think I have figured out how to do these days that remain between now and when we will be together again.  

And sometimes I realize that I haven’t.

Today is one of those days.

IMG_2637

 

 

I miss you.

I love you.

 

 

I can’t round a corner without thinking of you and wishing this was not my life.

But it is.  

So I’ll keep on keeping on.  Just like you would want me to.

Just like you would do.

Even when it’s hard.  

And some days it is so very hard.