The world can make a heart panic, scrambling to pile up extra lest “the worst” befalls us and suddenly there’s not enough.
That’s what happened a couple years ago when, for some unknown reason, toilet paper became the currency of security.
But no matter how deep or full the pantry, stuff can’t keep us truly safe.
Ask me how I know.
Read the rest here: Thanks And Giving
When I first began writing in this space, “lament” had only just come into vogue.
Now, it’s everywhere.
If the past few years have taught hearts a single thing, I hope it is there’s no use pretending life doesn’t hurt sometimes. We were not created to carry that kind of pain alone.
And thankfully, we don’t have to.
God, in Christ, invites me to speak it, to sing it, to release it as an exhale so His grace and strength can rush in to fill that empty space.
You’re invited too.
❤ Melanie
Thanksgiving was always my favorite holiday.
I loved everything about it,
Read the rest here: The Power of Lament to Make Room for Thanksgiving
Gratitude does not undo grief.
There, I said it.
Gratitude is important. It is (in my opinion) a necessary ingredient for a healthy and hope-filled and useful life. It is the key to any real happiness a heart might find on this broken road.
But it cannot fill up the empty place where Dominic used to be.
Grief does not preclude gratitude.
Although some broken hearts swear it does. They have convinced themselves that if they cannot have the one thing they really want, then nothing else matters.
That’s a lie as well.
Read the rest here: Gratitude and Grieving: Appreciating What I Have, Acknowledging What I Miss
Gratitude does not undo grief.
There, I said it.
Gratitude is important. It is (in my opinion) a necessary ingredient for a healthy and hope-filled and useful life. It is the key to any real happiness a heart might find on this broken road.
But it cannot fill up the empty place where Dominic used to be.
Grief does not preclude gratitude.
Although some broken hearts swear it does. They have convinced themselves that if they cannot have the one thing they really want, then nothing else matters.
That’s a lie as well.
Read the rest here: Gratitude and Grieving: Appreciating What I Have, Acknowledging What I Miss
Oh, my!
I’ve been overwhelmed and undone by the outpouring of support for my tiny steps into the world of bigger ministry.
So many of you have messaged, commented, texted and donated and it has encouraged my heart.
I’ll be honest, when the Lord first whispered the idea of creating something “official” in my ear, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it.
It sounded like a lot of work and a lot of commitment and a lot of potential for public failure.
But y’all have shouted a resounding “amen” to the questions, “Should I do this? Is there a need? Can I fill a space no one else is currently filling?”
Thank you.
I think you deserve an update on progress and plans, so here it is.
I’ve been working, working, working to learn the ins and outs of website design, non-profit record keeping and wise administration (along with delegation-not my forte!).
I finally figured out how to share at least some blog posts on the new website.
Don’t worry. I will continue to write here every day as usual but I will publish the most popular and most helpful articles at http://heartacheandhope.org as well.
The first in-person gathering for bereaved parents will be at my little rural church in the underserved community of Bibb County, Alabama on Thursday, October 17th.
There will be a time for sharing our stories, fellowship around a light supper and some brief helps on how to face the holidays after child loss.
These gatherings will be held most months and are open to any bereaved parents who want to attend.
I am hosting a small bereaved moms’ retreat at my family homestead in October as well. The theme is Heartache, Hope and Healing in Jesus-Broken Vessels, Beautiful Message.
My prayer is that the intimate setting, teaching, sharing, prayer and bonding fellowship will raise up other moms ready to share their stories and shed light for other hurting hearts.
We’ll close out the year with a Blue Christmas service honoring our missing children and preparing our hearts to receive the life, love and light that is Emmanuel-God With Us-during the Christmas season and always.
Next year’s calendar is already filling with presentations to various local (but out of town for me) support groups, additional retreats (information to follow),
monthly gatherings, facilitating a book study through Our Hearts are Home and (hopefully) a couple of opportunities to speak to pastors and others in ministry about how to help grieving parents.
You’ll be able to find these on the website calendar.
I’m developing several one or two page handouts for bereaved parent group leaders, pastors, social workers, healthcare workers and funeral homes to help them connect others to resources and ministries that support and encourage grieving parents.
I hope to have the first ones ready by January.
Look for that announcement here, on the website and on Facebook.
So what can you do to help the ministry continue to grow?
Child loss has been my greatest challenge, my deepest pain and my most profound misery.
But is has also been the very place God has met me with the greatest comfort, the deepest compassion and the most profound revelation of Who He is.
In spite of everything I’ve endured, my hope remains unshaken and unshakeable.
The comfort I have received is now mine to give to others.
I am oh, so grateful for your partnership, prayers and encouragement that is making it possible.
May the Lord richly bless you as you have blessed me.
I grew up in the South with a mama who was extremely concerned with fulfilling every social nicety and especially NEVER neglecting to send a “thank you” card to anyone who deserved one.
I wrote out my own appreciations between Christmas and New Year’s each holiday season from the time I was old enough to know how to address an envelope.
There was never an acceptable excuse for not doing it.
So I understand the folks whose own tradition, upbringing and lifestyle demand every kindness, gift, meal brought or other act of service demands written and postage paid acknowledgement.
But please stop waiting for one from your friend or family member who buried their child!
Several times in the past week I’ve had to counsel and console bereaved parents who have been chided, embarrassed, called out in public or shamed in private for not sending notes of gratitude.
It is unrealistic to expect a grieving parent to have the emotional or mental bandwidth to sit down and compose such things when they are probably having trouble writing a grocery list and brushing their teeth.
No one who hasn’t experienced child loss can imagine how difficult it is to leave a funeral or memorial service knowing that for most people it’s over when for t us it’s just beginning.
Child loss changes EVERYTHING.
We come back to a house that no longer feels like home. Our family has been reshaped in ways we can’t recognize and don’t know how to relate to. If there are other children, we are trying our best to help them navigate their own grief. Marriages are rocked and every weak spot exposed.
Some end.
For those who must return to work, it’s necessary to find some way to muster the energy and attention to do whatever our job demands all the while fighting an internal wellspring of emotion that threatens to undo us any moment. Bills have to be paid. Estates (yes, even for very young children, depending on the circumstances) must be managed. Dozens of times we are forced to make phone calls and say, “My son is deceased, I need to do XYZ on his behalf”.
Mental, physical, emotional and spiritual exhaustion is our constant companion.
Most parents would LOVE to have a moment when they could thank those who helped in the immediate aftermath, who sent flowers, food or a card to encourage them.
But they don’t.
I managed to send about twenty notes within the first month to a few folks who were exceptionally close to our family. The rest waited until November when I used Thanksgiving as a natural moment to express my feelings. I know I overlooked some people and I’ve never tried to make my efforts more complete. I am unusual but writing comes fairly natural to me.
Many parents just cannot do it.
So if you are tempted to confront a bereaved parent because you or someone you represent hasn’t gotten a card in the mail, just don’t. And for goodness sakes, do NOT whisper or text behind their back!
I hope you offered your original help or gift with grace and a heart tuned toward compassion. If you didn’t, then shame on you. If you did, then you shouldn’t mind not having a formal acknowledgement.
You have the great blessing of remaining ignorant of what it feels like to send a child to Heaven before you.
That should be enough.
The world can make a heart panic, scrambling to pile up extra lest “the worst” befalls us and suddenly there’s not enough.
That’s what happened a couple years ago when, for some unknown reason, toilet paper became the currency of security.
But no matter how deep or full the pantry, stuff can’t keep us truly safe.
Ask me how I know.
Read the rest here: Thanks And Giving
I wrote this eight years ago but most of it could have been written yesterday.
I was adding up all the things that have happened since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven and each autumn there has been some new and difficult circumstance to mar the beauty of falling leaves.
There have been lovely things too, though-precious moments of quiet rejoicing and memory making. I treasure them in my heart because loss has taught me their value.
Thanksgiving is still my favorite holiday because I am still so very, very thankful.
❤
Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday.
My birthday sometimes falls on the day itself (like THIS year), and I have often been able to celebrate with extended family and friends-a full table of food and a full house of fellowship.
I love the colors of fall, the scents of cinnamon and pumpkin, the freedom from gift-giving pressures that lets me focus on the people in my life.
Read the rest here: Thankful But Broken
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.
Seven (!) years ago today I shared my first post in this space.
It was a timid foray into the wider world just a year and a half after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.
I was truly frightened that once I began sharing my intimate thoughts, good (and not-so-good) experiences and things I was learning in this Valley of the Shadow of Death I would either: (1) find out no one really cared and/or; (2) offend friends and family.
But what motivated me to overcome that fear was a sense that for all the information out there on grief in general, I couldn’t find nearly enough first-person experience written in bite-sized chunks on child loss in particular.
After Dom ran ahead, it was difficult for me to sit down and read a whole book. I needed bits I could read on a single computer screen.
I also needed someone to be upfront and honest about what it meant to continue to cling to faith even when it was hard and even when it meant acknowledging doubts and living with unanswered questions.
It’s difficult to believe now with the plethora of popular books (both secular and religious) on “open broken” but seven years ago, there weren’t many around.
So I decided I’d just say what I had to say and let it fall on the ears that might need to hear it regardless of who didn’t like it or chose to ignore it.
And here we are seven years later.
I don’t know how long I’ll keep writing-probably as long as I feel like I have something to say, people are listening and my fingers can still tap-tap-tap the keyboard.
For now, writing is what I do.
Even when life interrupts almost everything else I will find a few moments to jot down thoughts and hit “publish”.
I know some posts are much thinner than others-maybe just a meme or two and an encouraging word. Some are just reworked posts from years gone by.
But I want to show up in case THIS morning someone’s having an especially rotten one.
I want you to know that there IS life after child loss.
A very different life.
A harder life.
A life you didn’t want and wouldn’t ever choose, but life nonetheless.
And I appreciate every. single. heart. who joins me here and cheers me (and others!) along.
thelifeididntchoose 