Tag: sorrow

Lenten Reflections: Refusing To Speed Past Sorrow

There are several recorded incidents where Jesus withdrew seeking solitude and solace. 

One of them is upon hearing of John’s beheading at the hands of Herod. 

If we accept that our Shepherd was a perfect model in all things  (and I do!) then this is a model for dealing with sorrow and loss. 

There have been specific individuals instructed by the Lord to ignore mourning  (always for a prophetic purpose) but the general  pattern in Scripture is to make room for the necessary work of processing grief.

So today’s fast is speeding past sorrow.

So often those of us who have wounded hearts are pushed by ourselves, by friends and family, and by a “look on the bright side” society to rush past our sorrow and sadness. But that is not only futile, it’s unhealthy.

While time, by itself, does not heal all wounds.  Time is a necessary component of healing.

As much as we might wish it otherwise, there is no speedy way to wrap up the bits of a broken heart.  Speeding past sorrow only means it festers, not that it is magically erased or truly forgotten. 

It has been brutal, time-consuming and energy-intensive to force my heart to sit with the sorrow of Dominic’s death. 

But every moment and every effort has borne fruit.

Jesus said, “Truly, truly I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone. But if it dies, it bears much fruit.” (John 12: 24)

In many ways active grieving is it’s own kind of death and that may be why we often run from it.

Bring to mind the names and faces of loved ones who have died.  What deposits did they make in your life?  How did you feel when you first learned of their deaths?…Today, honor the losses  in your life.  Instead of speeding past sadness, slow down and be present to your emotions. With Jesus, sit with your sorrow and let loss do its eternal work in your soul.

Alicia Britt Chole

Some of us are very vocal with our grief and some suffer in silence. 

Either is perfectly normal. 

The important thing is to face it.

**As promised, I am sharing thoughts on 40 DAYS OF DECREASE (a Lenten journal/devotional).  If you choose to get and use the book yourself, I’ll be a day behind in sharing so as not to influence anyone else’s experience.**

I’m So Sorry

My son’s death is a point in time for people outside my immediate grief circle. It’s a date on a calendar. There is a period after his name.

But it is an ongoing experience for me and my family.

We don’t only remember on birthdays, holidays and anniversary days, we can never forget.

Yet often others do.

Read the rest here: I’m Sorry

Lifting 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.

Read the rest here: My Cup Overflows

Looking Forward: A New Season of Grief

For a long, long time I couldn’t bear to see a monthly calendar.

I didn’t want to be reminded that time refused to stand still for my broken heart and I hated there were no more “Dominic” events to scribble in on the blank squares.

Around the third year I was able to once again mark major events like birthdays, holidays and short family trips. But it was even longer before I was able to truly look forward with excitement to those things.

Seven plus years, multiple family changes, a pandemic, retirement and a grandchild have reshaped my heart so that I’m genuinely thrilled to prepare and participate in most things from family meals to “Granny Camp” (which I get to host next week!).

I’m not forgetting nor minimizing Dominic by diving into these events with gusto. In fact, I’m sure he would approve.

So I’m entering a new season of grief-one which makes room for current joys and celebrations while still holding space for Dominic.

I can be present and participate without reserve.

I am making memories with those who are still here.

Enjoying every moment. ❤

Reaching For Jesus In The Midst of Sorrow

Life after child loss is full of seeming contradictions.

I am broken yet God is redeeming those fragments and reassembling a life of beauty and meaning.

The cracks are visible but they haven’t disqualified me as a vessel that can hold His love, His grace, His mercy and pour all that out on others.

I’m often scared, but am able to walk into each day brave in the knowledge I don’t walk alone.

Read the rest here: Scared and Brave: Reaching For Jesus in the Midst of Sorrow

Bitterness: A Terrible Legacy

Oh, how easy it would be to become bitter!  

If I’m honest, part of me just wants to tell the world to “Get lost!”. 

But the wiser part of me knows that’s neither a helpful nor healthy response to even this most awful burden of child loss.  

Lament is how we bring our sorrow to God. Without lament, we won’t know how to process pain. Silence, bitterness, and even anger can dominate our spiritual lives instead.

~Mark Vroegop – Dark Clouds Deep Mercy

Because my bitter spirit wouldn’t stop with me.

Read the rest here: Bitterness Is A Terrible Legacy

Sorrow Lifted As Sacrifice

Would I have chosen this broken path?

Absolutely not.

Will I embrace it as something God can use to make me more like Jesus?

I hope so-I’m certainly trying.

We are told our tears are so very precious to God that He keeps track of them in a bottle.

I often wonder if when we get to Heaven, or when God remakes the earth into its beautiful and perfect form, the bottles will be opened and every tear counted and redeemed.

Read the rest here: Holy Week Reflections: Sorrow Lifted as Sacrifice

Grief: A Forest of Sorrow

One of the things I realized early on this journey was that I did not possess the vocabulary for the deep pain, unbearable sorrow and relentless longing I was experiencing.

So I sought out quotes, fellow travelers and groups of others who shared this awful path.

It helped.

It didn’t take away the pain but it gave me words to express it. It gave me courage to believe I could survive it.

I will never forget those who chose to come back with a torch in the dark and light the way.

❤

There are so many ways to describe grief.

So many ways individual hearts walk this path.

For many of us there’s a sense of being locked in time, stuck in space, unable to leave the moment one received the news or the few days before and after.

It’s maddening that the earth still turns, the sun still rises and people go on with life when in so many ways our world is frozen in place.

Read the rest here: Forest of Sorrow

Take All The Time You Need

Time, by itself, does not heal all wounds.  

But of all the factors that promote healing, there is NO SUBSTITUTE for time–not in the physical world of surgery and broken bones and deep wounds and not in the inner world of  emotional pain and brokenness and sorrow.

Read the rest here: No Rush

LOVE Is The Reason I Grieve

If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them.
—James O’Barr

I grieve because I love.

My tears are a gift to the son I miss.  My sorrow honors his memory.  My broken heart gives evidence to the ones walking with me that my love is fierce and timeless.

Read the rest here: Love: The Reason I Grieve