You Gotta Dig the Well Before You are Thirsty!

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

Scoot Over, Make Room For the Broken

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

Waiting, Unashamed

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

Bitterness Will Bear Poisonous Fruit

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

This Is NOT What I Had Planned

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

It Can’t Be Both Ways

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…

Choosing to Lift the Cup of Sorrow

See, here’s the thing: to the outside world, my son’s death happened at a single point in time.

But to me, his death is a continuous event.

I must lift the cup of sorrow every day to parched lips.  I must choose to take it to the One Who can help me lift it.

Jesus knows this cup.

He knows my pain:  My Cup Overflows

A Life of Contradictions

Child loss for the believer in Jesus is a life of contradictions.

On the one hand I acknowledge, embrace and proclaim the awful truth of physical death. Every funeral declares that the world is not as God intended, every burial reminds me that sin demands payment and separates us from the perfect Presence of our Creator and guarantees that those who are sensitive to the Spirit walk in a Valley of Tears.

On the other hand, it draws my heart to the hope I have in Christ. It helps me hold onto my Shepherd King and creates longing for a Home I’ve never seen but am fully convinced is real.

Some days I lean one way and others I lean another.

It’s OK.

Because one day my faith will be made sight and there will no longer be any tension between the two.

Hallelujah! Amen.

❤ Melanie

2016: Overgrown

In my neck of the woods, if you look close you can see tell-tale signs of old home places as you ride down country roads.

A few daffodils in rows emerge each spring to show where some housewife marked her path from front porch to mailbox.  A crepe myrtle looks out of place in the woods but often has a twin if you know where to direct your gaze.

People always leave a trace…

Read the rest here: Overgrown

2017: Feel and Deal to Heal

Feel and Deal to Heal

If I touch a hot stove my hand jerks away almost before my mind registers the searing pain.  It’s reflex.  Our bodies were designed to react to and protect us from things that cause pain.

Run away.  Don’t go back.  Set up barricades and warning signs so that others can be protected.

Most of the time, this reaction serves us well.

But sometimes those reflexes keep us from healing.

Read the rest here: Feel and Deal to Heal

2018: Healthy Boundaries in Grief

Repost:  Healthy Boundaries in Grief

As a people-pleasing first born who hates conflict, giving in has always been  easy for me. It’s only later that I wish I hadn’t.  

So for most of my life, setting personal boundaries has been challenging.

But in the aftermath of child loss, healthy boundaries are no longer optional, they are necessary for survival.  

So what are healthy boundaries?

Read the rest here:  Healthy Boundaries in Grief

2019: NOTHING Can Separate Us From the Love of Christ!


If yesterday’s verses were Paul’s closing arguments, these verses are his hallelujah!

When I am weak and weary and overwhelmed by the daily trudging uphill along the path of grief, my heart comes here.

Because truth is, over and over and over God has said in His Word, demonstrated by His actions and proved by His promises that love endures.

Read the rest here: Scripture Journal Challenge: NOTHING Can Separate Us From the Love of Christ

2020: Prisoner of Hope

Prisoner Of Hope

When Jesus claimed me as His child, I was liberated from darkness and made a prisoner of hope.

No matter how black the night, there is a pinhole of light. No matter how crushing the despair, there is a sliver of strength. When I want to stay under the covers, He beckons me to come out and I cannot resist.

I am a slave to the promise of Heaven.

Read the rest here: Prisoner Of Hope

Gentle Shepherd, Lead Me Home

Experiencing deep loss has a way of winnowing the frivolous from your life.

That doesn’t mean for one moment that (after those first years of heart wrenching, breath robbing pain) I don’t have fun.

I love to laugh!

But it does mean that I cut to the chase with daily decisions that aren’t going to make one whit of difference in five hours, much less five years.

Don’t have time for that nonsense!

I try hard to maintain relationships. I try hard to speak courage to the hearts around me. I try hard to be gracious (not always successful!) when others upset or disappoint me.

And I absolutely, positively insist that Scripture be taught in context.

Jesus is a gentle Shepherd. I want to be one too.

❤ Melanie

2016: A Few of My Favorite Things

When I had a child, suddenly I cared about everything. When I lost a child, suddenly I cared about nothing.

~ a bereaved mother

When I read this comment, I thought about it for a moment to see if it was true for me.

And I realized that, yes, it WAS true at the very beginning.

Mind-numbing pain and soul-crushing agony pressed down so heavily that I couldn’t care about anything other than reminding myself to

BREATHE.

Read the rest here: A Few of My Favorite Things

2018: Refuse To Cause Pain

Refuse to Cause Pain

I’m a kinder, gentler person than I was before Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.

It’s a high price to pay to learn to walk more grace-filled through this life.

I’ve come to find out that every heart has a story.  Every heart is carrying a burden.-perhaps not the same as mine, but a burden nonetheless.

And what causes the most pain in this life (next to the burden itself) is when another person runs over my heart without thinking about the burden it may hold inside.

So I have purposed not to do that to other people.

Read the rest here: Refuse to Cause Pain

2019: Not Everything IS Good

Romans is a dense book full of quotable verses often taken out of context.

Today’s verses include some of the most hopeful and, frankly, hurtful verses tossed at broken hearts.

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. ” (Romans 8: 28 NIV)

Often this verse is shared by well-meaning friends who want us to “look on the bright side”. They can’t comprehend that the darkness of child loss is so complete our hearts can’t imagine light still exists.

Joe Amon via Getty Images

But when you see that verse and the ones that follow in context, a heart can find a foothold.

Read the rest here: Scripture Journal Challenge: Not Everything IS Good

2020: Grief’s Physical Toll

I don’t know about you but my face and my body tell the tale.

It’s a story of stress and strife and it’s not pretty.

I look at photos before and after and see grief written all over the pictures taken since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.

Read the rest here: Grief’s Physical Toll

I Didn’t Choose This Life, But There Are Still Choices I Can Make

I did NOT choose THIS life-the life of a bereaved mother-the life where my earthbound kids haul the legacy of burying their brother and losing the family they grew up with around.

But…BUT…there are still choices I can make within this life I didn’t choose.

I can choose to continue to invest the time, talent and energy I have in eternally significant ways.

I can choose not to hide my wounds, my scars, my fears, my questions and my struggles.

I can choose to be honest about the way grief continues to shape some aspects of how I walk in this world.

And I can choose to engage with the God who made me, who carries me and who will redeem, restore and resurrect everything and everyone the enemy has stolen.

❤ Melanie

2016: When Routine Wears You Down-Encouragement for the Worn Out Heart

It may not be this way around the country or around the world, but here in Alabama school has been in session for several weeks and the hot weather along with added commitments makes life a little harder.  

After the excitement of posting “first day” photos wears off, routine sets in.

Carpools, music lessons, homework, getting everyone ready to rush out the door...it’s enough to wear anyone down.  

That’s when it’s easy to lose sight of what’s important.  That’s when the enemy whispers, “You don’t make a difference.”

He’s wrong.  

You are shepherding eternal souls. 

Don’t give up!

The tyranny of the urgent can push what’s important past the fringes of our attention.

Our vision can be so consumed with the day-to-day until there’s no space for long-term goals or ambitions.

But God has ordained that our children, eternal beings, be set in families.

 Read the rest here: Sowing in Tears, Reaping in Joy

2018: Choosing to Be a Lighthouse

There are two ways to deal with the scars pain leaves behind: try to cover them up or display them boldly.

Hiding seems the easier way so many times-because the scars are tender and the last thing I want is to invite more pain.  But it takes great effort and is rarely successful.

The edges peek out here and there and then I’m left awkwardly trying to explain how I got them and what they mean.

If I refuse to hide my scars and instead lay them open to the world, I am vulnerable, true. But I am also in a position to help others who are suffering the same pain that etched those scars in my heart.

Read the rest here: Choosing to Be a Lighthouse

2019: I’m Not The Only One Waiting

We’ve all waited for something.

For those of us who carried a tiny life inside as it grew larger and larger and thought we might just burst open before he or she made an exit from the womb into the wide world, we know exactly how hard waiting can be.

We also know how fast waiting goes from “I’m not sure just when” to “it’s happening RIGHT NOW”.

Some of the most painful waiting is the hours of intense labor.

Before the blessed culmination, it hurts! A lot!

And then the beautiful fruit of all that pain, struggle and patience is in our arms.

Paul says that the whole creation (every single thing on the planet) is waiting in much the same way. Waiting, waiting, waiting for God’s perfect plan to reach fullness and be revealed in all its excellent glory.

Read the rest here: Scripture Journal Challenge: I’m Not The Only One Waiting

So I did something last week that was pretty big for me.

I went to the dentist-not once, but twice-AND I let him make some long-needed repairs to my neglected teeth.

For some folks this might seem like a silly bit of whiny sympathy seeking for the kind of every day healthcare I should be grateful for and not complain about.

But for me, it was HUGE.

I’ve never, ever liked having my mouth worked on.

Read the rest here: Everyday Brave