I’ve thought often of what good, if any, can come from child loss.
I do not think for one minute that God “took” my son to teach me a lesson or to mold me in some way.
But I do believe with my whole heart that God can USE this circumstance to conform me more closely to the image of Christ Jesus.
Read the rest here: Hidden Manna
When I first began writing in this space, “lament” had only just come into vogue.
Now, it’s everywhere.
If the past couple 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
I first shared this seven 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 deep in my bones.
But I can say I’m learning not to fight it.
Sometimes I still pitch a fit.
Read the rest here: Yielded and Still
My friend and fellow bereaved mom, Margaret Franklin, Ryan’s mom, shared a beautiful Dutch word with me “Sterkte” (pronounced STAIRK-tah).
It literally translates “strength” or “power” but culturally means much more. It means bravery, strength, fortitude and endurance in the face of fear and insumountable odds through the empowering strength of God in me.
Not MY strength, but HIS.
It’s the strength Isaiah meant when he wrote:
But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
Isaiah 40:31 KJV
This is what it means to appropriate God’s strength:
I have to exhale my doubts, inhale His truth and then allow His Spirit to weave that truth into armor so that I am strong for battle.
Read the rest here: Trust After Loss: Appropriate God’s Strength
It’s been a long time since I’ve shared this piece.
Sometimes even my favorites get lost in the thousands (!) of daily posts but I found this one again recently and was again reminded of the truth that there is NO substitute for filling your heart and mind with Scripture BEFORE you might desperately need it.
When the deputy rang my doorbell and my heart was shattered, I didn’t receive mysterious whispered comfort nor was I cloaked in a miraculous sense of peace.
I was, instead, immediately filled to overflowing with words of life, hope, and love bubbling from the spring I’d been tending to in my soul for decades.
Nothing new but everything eternally true.
The faithful, unchangeable and never-failing character of my Shepherd King is how I carry on.
❤ Melanie
I am not a fan of church signs.
Most of the time they try to be cute and reduce eternal truth to a few words that often leave room for [mis]interpretaion.
But I saw one today that I DID like: “Dig the well before you are thirsty”.
It takes time to dig a well.
And it’s hard work.
You can’t wake up one morning, decide to dig and expect results in a couple of hours. If you want a reliable source of water to quench your thirst you have to plan ahead.
Read the rest here: Dig the Well BEFORE You are Thirsty
One of the things I learned quickly after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven was that other people were very uncomfortable around my brokenness.
For some, it was because they didn’t know what to say or do when tears leaked from my eyes.
Others found the presence of a bereaved mother simply too hard to take-if it happened to ME, it could happen to THEM.
A few were just too self-focused to allow anyone else’s pain to rain on their “perfect” parade.
But if I’ve learned anything from this life it is this: Christ loves the broken. It’s the broken and breathless who realize they need a Savior.
And when I make room for the brokenness of others in my life, I’m inviting His Holy Presence to dwell in our midst.
❤ Melanie
I used to position myself at the end of the pew, just in case someone I’m not too comfortable with might come along and try to sit down.
It saved us both that awkward conversation where they ask if they can join me and I say “yes” with my mouth but “no” with my body language.
Read the rest here: Move Over, Make Room for the Broken
Maybe what God has for me and others who suffer long is not a victorious tag line that can be slapped on a photo or shared on social media.
Maybe it’s only in the continued press of suffering that God reveals Himself in ways the non-suffering never see.
Maybe a dash to declare victory is actually rushing past what God has for us in deep pain and ongoing struggle.
Maybe waiting in hopeful expectation for what God is doing and will do in me and through me IS the victory.
Read the rest here: Not Ashamed to Wait
I believe the root of bitterness is turning away from the truth that God is faithful, loving, gracious and good.
Once a heart denies THAT, it is easily led away from the grace of God and the mercy of God.
The bitter root bears bitter fruit and has the potential to defile everyone around us and beyond.
Because when a heart embraces bitterness, it is never content to be bitter alone. It offers up the wretched fruit to anyone who will taste it.
Read the rest here: Bitterness Bears Poisonous Fruit
I don’t get to choose.
I don’t get to plan the way life is going to be.
Oh, I bring out the calendar and mark down the days: birthdays, holidays, special events and obligations.
But then one dark morning a knock stops the clock and makes the world spin faster all at once.
I’m suspended and plunged under in the same breath.
Read the rest here: Not What I Had Planned
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.
Read the rest here: Can’t Have it Both Ways…
thelifeididntchoose 