Every autumn I hear the geese overhead and I think about how all that honking serves only a single purpose: to remind the stragglers they are headed in the right direction.
It speaks courage to my own heart as I remember that not only does the leader call out to those behind, but that each bird takes a turn at the head of the line so that the others can rest a bit.
What beautiful picture of how life SHOULD be.
Read the rest here: Of Flying Geese and Calling Courage!
If you’ve followed this space for very long, you probably noticed that I don’t publish many lists.
I usually like to share my thoughts and observations generously padded by narrative. That’s because lists can sometimes sound harsh and unkind.
But when I came across this one several years ago, I found it honest, useful and to the point for folks who might not wade through folksy wisdom to find the meat of things.
So here it is one more time.
Read the rest here: Bereaved Parent’s Wish List
Every spring and every fall we dutifully make the rounds to our clocks and digital devices, putting them first forward an hour and then back in an attempt to make the days “longer”.
As if time was in our hands.
The sun rises and sets according to the Creator’s schedule, we can neither speed the world’s turning, nor slow it down.
We can only choose whether to be present in the moments He grants us.
Read the rest here: Time Change
It’s tempting to avoid someone when their world is dark.
It’s uncomfortable to choose to enter their pain. But Jesus has called us to walk beside the suffering, to encourage the disheartened and to lift up the ones who stumble.
There are no magic words to erase heartache.
Only presence.
And isn’t that why Jesus came?
Read the rest here: The Power of Presence
A LOT has happened since I wrote this post one year ago to share my husband’s cancer diagnosis and need for surgery.
I am oh, so happy to report that the surgery was successful, the margins clean and he’s had no indication he needs additional treatment. He did, however, develop a hernia that necessitated another (much more complicated and invasive) surgery a few months later.
Still, all in all, we are overjoyed that what could have been the beginning of a long and arduous cancer treatment journey was shortened to surgery and easy follow-up visits to monitor blood work.
I wanted to share this again to remind myself and YOU of how important it is to be honest about our struggles. If I don’t let anyone know I need support and prayers, how can I expect them to show up?
Sometimes the ones we expect to come alongside don’t. But often the Lord provides others who do.
❤ Melanie
Can I just say how very grateful I am for every single person who joins me here and in online groups?
I have been overwhelmingly BLESSED by comments and messages time and time again. It’s definitely been a lifeline when grief, other challenges and everyday living makes this old wounded heart want to give up and give in.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I never take your presence for granted.
Read the rest here: May I Ask for Prayers? Please and Thank You.
I remember the first couple times I ventured out in public after Dominic left us and the flurry of activity surrounding his funeral was over.
I felt naked, afraid and oh, so vulnerable.
The tiniest misplaced word or random glance could undo me and I burst into tears.
Read the rest here: They Don’t Know What They Don’t Know
I’d like to encourage my fellow travelers in this Valley today.
Often I write about and share the hardest parts of this journey. Because there are so, so many hard parts!
And they are rarely spoken about above a whisper (if at all!) in greater society. I am determined to be as honest as possible lest I know of a hidden danger along the way and fail to warn you.
But there are also precious joys tucked away along the difficult path.
Read the rest here: Wildflowers In The Weeds: Finding Joy Again
I don’t want to take away any happy memories a parent may have of Halloweens past.
I know some families and some communities have celebrations that focus primarily on dressing up, more funny-than-scary traditions and even highlighting the connection between those who remain and those gone before that transcends generations.
I respect that.
What hurts MY heart (and maybe only my heart) is the elevation of death and dying to a spectator sport.
I’ll never get used to that. And I don’t want to get used to it.
❤ Melanie
Except for a few years early in childhood, I have never liked Halloween. The combination of darkness and creepiness makes my skin crawl.
And now, this side of child loss it makes me angry.
Why? Because for one night (really, for a couple of weeks!) Americans not only think about death, they spend millions of dollars celebrating it.
Not celebrating ACTUAL death-not the absolute horror of being told your child is gone, gone, gone. Instead it’s a fake, “funny”, silly made-up mockery of a very real, very awful truth.
Read the rest here: Halloween
I try to limit the time I spend perusing old photos and old social media posts of my missing son.
I’ve learned that while they remind me of sweet memories and happy times they also prick my heart in ways nothing else can.
I was looking for something specific the other day and had to scroll through Dominic’s Facebook page to find it. As I did, I began reading some of the back and forth comments under the posts and pictures.
This time it wasn’t what was said or where the photos were taken that hurt my heart.
Instead it was the tiny little time stamp underneath the words that took my breath away.
Nothing more recent than nine years ago was recorded.
Because that’s when his voice went silent.
Read the rest here: I Miss Your Voice: Silent Echoes Haunt My Heart
Shattered beyond repair-that certainly describes my broken heart in the first days, weeks and months after Dominic’s leaving.
I felt like Humpty Dumpty.
The pieces were too small to find, much less glue back together in anything resembling wholeness.
And the essence of the “old me”-the person that existed before loss-was spilled onto the ground, leaking strength and life and joy into the dry earth.
Read the rest here: Broken, But Not Beyond Repair
thelifeididntchoose 