Being Present is Powerful

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

I Refuse to Let Death Win

I’m not brave by nature.

If I have a choice, I will run every time.  But there are just some things worth fighting for.

My family is one of them.

I will not let the enemy have them.

Read the rest here: I Will Not Be Moved

Trying To Remember In a World That Forgets

I’ve written before about how I choose to leave some things just as Dominic left them-even over seven years later.

It’s my way of maintaining physical space in our home that represents the space in my heart where only he can fit.

It’s also more than that.

As time progresses, nearly every other tangible evidence that Dominic existed is being worn away.

Read the rest here: And The Gap Grows: Trying To Remember In a World That Forgets

Some Good News.

I’ve written before how grief impacts physical health.

It’s true that our hearts and our bodies are intricately connected and stress in one area inevitably produces effects in the other.

I thought I had made it past the “critical period” when child loss might show up in my body but I was wrong.

Christmas Eve Day landed me in the hospital with a massive GI bleed. It wasn’t the first time I’d had such an incident. They began in 2007 and this made the sixth trip to the emergency room for the same problem-third since Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.

But this is the first time it’s taken nine long months to rebuild the red blood cells I lost.

I’m sure age and my autoimmune disease have something to do with it. Still, I’ve been pretty puny trying to do chores around this place with insufficient oxygen flowing to my muscles and my lungs. It’s been a challenge walking up the long hill from the horse pen to the front door. It’s been hard marching up and down the stairs in the house carrying laundry and sundry other things.

Tuesday, though, I got some really good news!

I get bi-monthly infusions for my RA and it’s standard practice to run labs before to make sure my body can tolerate the onslaught of potent medicine flowing through my veins.

For the first time in nine months the results showed I had a normal blood count.

I suspected that it had finally crept up into normal range because when I had my grandson here a couple weeks ago I was able to keep up with him. But it was lovely to get empirical confirmation.

And just like bad news drags me lower since Dom left us, good news boosts me higher.

There was a time when I thought I didn’t want to keep going-the pain was too great, the burden too heavy.

Thankfully, I’m not still in that pit of despair.

I miss Dominic. I miss the family we were. I mourn the uncle and (probably) husband he would have been.

But I have people here who I love. I have a life that still has meaning and purpose.

And I’m incredibly grateful for good news.

I’m Building My Legacy-I Want It To Be A Good One

I am crafting a legacy every. single. day.

People will remember me for who I am, not who I wish I had been.

Age doesn’t magically transform anyone into a better self than that which they have been practicing to become.

Read the rest here: One Day I Will Be A Memory- I Want To Be A Good One.

He’s the God Who Stays

God is the Faithful Father watching and waiting with open arms for the Prodigal to return.

He will weave even the darkest and most tangled threads of my life into a beautiful, redeemed tapestry if I let Him.

He’s the God who stays.

Read the rest here: The God Who Stays

Birthdays and Wakeful Nights

Today my heart hurts more than usual.

It’s my mama’s birthday-the second one we will celebrate without her here to blow out the candles.

It’s also the second anniversary (do you call it that?) of the day Papa had to call an ambulance to rush her to the hospital.

She never came home.

Our last visit just a couple of weeks before Mama’s stroke. All the grandmas and Ryker.

These past two years have been hard. Mama’s death plunged me back into deep grief for her and for Dominic. It tapped the wound that had begun to scar over a bit and the feelings I’d learned to push down bubbled back to the surface.

I’ve just now begun to sleep through the night again most nights. For much of the past two years I’ve been waking two or three times in the dark to vividly awful dreams-my family in peril and no way to help them is the theme over and over and over.

I know other motherless daughters.

Somehow knowing Mama isn’t available on the other end of the phone or sitting in her chair, waiting for me to come through the door at the farm, makes me supremely vulnerable.

One less generation between me and whatever the world might throw at me.

I know she is healthy and whole, happy and full of joy in Heaven. I know she’s reunited with her own mama, her siblings and Dominic.

On good days, that’s enough to make the missing bearable.

But on days like today, when we should be celebrating another year together but can’t, it doesn’t help all that much.

I miss her.

I miss Dominic.

I miss the me that used to be ignorant of what death steals from the living.

Happy Birthday in Heaven, Mama. We’ll be there soon. ❤

Grief Is Love

At first grief felt only like sorrow and longing and brokenness.

Then it felt like confusion and anxiety and despair.

A little further along this journey it mostly felt like apathy.

Now it feels like love.

Read the rest here: Grief-It’s Really Just Love

Hey Fellow Grievers, Love Brave!

I was unprepared for the many traveling companions grief brought with it.  I knew to expect sadness and despairbut what about anxiety and guilt?

I had no idea how large a space guilt would soon occupy in my thoughts and heart-guilt over what I did or didn’t do when Dominic was still with us, guilt over what I do or don’t do now.

I can do nothing to change what happened in years past.  

Read the rest here: To My Fellow Grievers-Love Brave

He Is The Peace Speaker

Life is full of storms.

Some are outside myself and others start in the secret corners of my own heart.

All of them make me wish for quiet and calm, peaceful waters where I can sail the ship of life and not worry about sinking beneath the waves.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the  world gives... - SermonQuotes

When I’m afraid I remind myself that Jesus is the Peace Speaker.

Read the rest here: Sea Of Love And Goodness