I admit I’m full of words. When my mama came to pick me up when her best friend was babysitting for awhile, she said, “You can’t have her yet, she’s telling me all kinds of things!”
More than once my mouth got me in trouble.
It’s still the source of most of my problems.
But for a time after Dominic left I found that the only words I could muster beyond what was absolutely necessary were written in my journal. Because the words I wanted to say were bitter and harsh and tasted bad as they came up my throat and threatened to roll off my tongue.
We were pretty sure Thanksgiving was nailed down this year.
Several of us have spent months doing work down at Papa’s place creating the perfect space for the whole family to gather. Food was ordered, menu planned and travel coordinated.
But no one can plan for the unpredictable.
So when Covid cases skyrocketed and we did the math, it became too risky for four separate households to spend five days eating, sleeping and playing together under one roof.
We called it off.
It was and is heartbreaking.
But not as heartbreaking as adding another empty chair around the table or missing another face in our family circle.
Perhaps you’re faced with some equally hard choices this year, this season.
I’m so sorry.
It seems especially unfair to those whose hearts are already lonely from loss to be forced to give up the chance for fellowship and encouragement in company of family and friends!
I wish there were some magic to make it all better.
There isn’t.
And one thing I’ve learned in this life I didn’t choose is this: you have to make the best of what you have left.
Thanksgiving with the family before loss. ❤
So I pray no matter how small, how unusual, how disappointing your own Thanksgiving may feel this year that you find space in your heart for hope.
We are not doing what we planned, but we are doing something.
It won’t be what we wished for, but we will still have a day.
I first shared this four years ago when I was still in the early days of mourning Dominic. Our family was facing the third set of holidays with an empty chair at the table.
Life since then has been full of additional challenges and loss.
I still rebel sometimes at the road I’m asked to walk.
But I am more convinced than ever that when I yield my life and heart to the Master Potter, He will mold me and make me into the likeness of Jesus.
And that’s really who I want to be-even if it hurts.
❤
I can’t claim to be satisfied with this life I’m living.
I do not like this path I am forced to walk, this darkness that hides the light, this pain that burrows deepin my bones.
It has taken me a lot of time and a lot of energy to do the work grief requires. There’s no short-circuiting the process. No way to rush through the painful and necessary steps.
For years I struggled with why, “Just think about the memories” didn’t comfort my heart. I treasured them. I tried hard to hold onto them. But that wasn’t enough.
And then I realized that a mother’s heart is not prepared to go on without the company of her child. I never, ever expected that it would be ME reminiscing about Dominic. I was sure it would be HIM thinking about me.
❤
I pull out the memories like treasures from a locked strongbox.
“Handle With Care” because they are all I have left.
But they are not enough.
They will never be enough to satisfy this mama’s heart.
We are supposed to have to remember our elders, our grandparents, even, maybe our spouse at some point-but not our children.
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 during the pandemic 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.
Dominic ran ahead to Heaven April 12, 2014.
Only faith and trust in the ever-faithful, never-lying Almighty God guides our hearts Home.
So in this season of thanksgiving, when gratitude is in style, I want to choose a bold strategy to challenge the world’s wrong direction and misapplied “wisdom”.
It’s not enough to pray thanksgiving over my family, my home, my safety net stockpile.
I want my life to be full of thanks AND of giving.
Because when I give I’m boldly declaring that I trust the Lord to give more. I’m leaning into the True Source of provision and leading other hearts to do the same.
A heart of gratitude is beautiful.
It’s what God wants from His children. But that’s only the half of it. A grateful heart that freely gives to others what has been freely given to it is even more beautiful.
God’s economy is one of bounty. I am unconcerned that my Heavenly Father may run out of blessing.
Everything I have, He has placed in my hands.
I am most like Jesus when I open my fists and share the gifts God entrusts to me with others.
My true treasure can’t be counted in dollars and cents.
My real reserve is love poured out and love returned.
I first shared this post three years ago when our family was in the midst of hard circumstances and we all had frayed nerves.
This year is a different kind of hard because some of the plans we thought were coming together are falling apart. I imagine many folks probably feel the same way with the pandemic forcing changes to longstanding traditions. So I’m sharing again.
You’d think that writing something down would ink it in my brain but I forget too. I need this reminder to take a breath, take a sip of my favorite flavored whatever and savor the beauty of this season.
❤ Melanie
Here they come round the bend like a pack of dogs chasing that rabbit on a racetrack.
No way to slow them down, no way to step to the side and ward off the relentless message that Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming soon-so, so soon.
Internet ads scream, “You’ve got to buy it NOW! You’re running out of time!”
thelifeididntchoose 