One of the reasons I write is to share my grief experience with others.
I realized when tossed into the ocean of sorrow that of all the things I had heard about or read about, surviving child loss was never mentioned.
Read the rest here: Silence Doesn’t Serve Anyone Well
I’ll just be completely honest here-there are some sins I don’t have much trouble avoiding. I’m not tempted to shoplift or physically harm others.
However, like all of us I have some pet sins I not only don’t avoid but I actually feed from time to time.
And like most folks, I justify my sin as “small” compared to the “big” sins of headline worthy wars or crimes or dastardly actions by those in power over those beneath them.
Why linger in the pain so many centuries after Christ’s resurrection?
Alicia Britt Chole
Because it was real. Perhaps we would live differently if we remembered more frequently (and more accurately) what the cross cost.
The thing is, any time I choose to willfully so something God has expressly forbidden I am sinning.
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus enlarged our understanding of sin to include thoughts and intentions of the heart even when our outward actions appear above board.
By this standard I fall short very often-sometimes by slipping into inadvertent sin but also sometimes by actively choosing that which momentarily satisfies my flesh but dishonors my Savior.
After Dom ran ahead to Heaven it was very, very hard to justify to my heart the benefits of continuing to walk the narrow path.
I was focused on what I thought was unfair and unkind-the death of my son-and found it difficult to focus on what I knew to be true-that God was all-loving and good.
‘It’s God who ought to suffer, not you and me,’ say those who bear a grudge against God for the unfairness of life. The curse word expresses it well: God be damned. And on that day, God was damned. The cross that held Jesus’ body, naked and marked with scars, exposed all the violence and injustice of this world. At once, the Cross revealed what kind of world we have and what kind of God we have: a world of gross unfairness, a God of sacrificial love.
Philip Yancey
Little by little, as I leaned heavily into His lovingkindness, mercy and grace, I once again could choose Willful Obedience.
Today’s challenge is to fast from willful sin.
To lay down my tendency to arrange sin in categories ranging from “acceptable” to “hell-worthy” which makes some OK and excusable.
May I be more aware of the cost Christ paid and choose to honor that sacrifice in my daily life.
Jesus died for our sin. Why then do we work to keep it alive? What benefit do we perceive ourselves receiving? Does that benefit outweigh the cost Christ paid? This is not a simplistic call to stop sinning. No, this is a sincere call for us to start loving Jesus to a degree that compels us to walk away from sin where we can and get help where we can’t.
Alicia Britt Chole
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.
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
I’ll be honest-it’s not that often that after three plus decades of in-depth Bible study that I hear or read a unique insight into familiar passages.
But today’s devotion and reflection helped me think of Jesus’ service to His disciples in a new way.
Jesus washed the feet of a betrayer, a denier, and ten deserters….Think of someone who has betrayed you, denied your love, or run away in your time of need. What would it take, what would it mean, for you to wash their feet?
Alicia Britt Chole
Chole’s words made me think back to moments where I’ve made an intentional choice to serve someone who had wounded or disappointed me.
Inevitably, loving action led to loving feelings.
One of the things that has become abundantly evident to me in the years since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven is this: carrying unforgiveness and bitterness is simply too hard a task.
If Jesus could (and did!) forgive His betrayer, His disciples for abandoning Him and even those who ultimately crucified Him, then I can (and should!) forgive those who have disappointed, abandoned or somehow been “less than” I needed them to be.
So for today, let’s fast “Armchair Jesus”-the Jesus who is all God and not very human. Jesus felt it all.
He experienced it all.
And He is more than capable and willing to strengthen me to stand up under any temptation, assault of the evil one or tendency of my flesh.
**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.**
I first shared this a couple of years ago when the world seemed to be going crazy and there was nothing I could do about it.
This year has been a real humdoozy too for different reasons!
Our family has welcomed another little bundle of joy earlier than expected (he’s doing really well, thank the Lord) and transitions abound.
So when a friend of Papa’s reminded me of his wise words, I decided to share once more.
Maybe someone else needs to hear it again too.
❤
I was talking to my dad the other morning as I do every morning.
We catch one another up on personal news and then turn to the world at large.
After another day of dismal and disconcerting headlines I asked my retired fighter pilot/flight instructor/still flying/recently bereaved dad, “So, how are you REALLY doing?”
He replied, “I’m flying the plane.”
He told me the first rule of flying was: NO MATTER WHAT– never, never, never stop flying the plane.
Read the rest here: Fly The Plane
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 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
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]
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: The Power of [Context]](https://thelifeididntchoose.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/dominic-is-a-living-breathing-heartbeat-within-my-own-chest.-you-cant-know-me-without-knowing-him.-my-story-my-familys-story-includes-him-even-though-his-physical-presence-is-no-longer-w.png?w=1200)
thelifeididntchoose 