I’m here to tell you: don’t drown your important relationships in unsaid words, unshared feelings, unacknowledged wounds.
All that does is guarantee distance grows between your hearts.
If you let the distance become too vast, or the pile of unsaid truth get too high, you might just find you can’t reach that far or that high to reconnect.
It takes a bit of brave to say what’s important and uncomfortable.
Read the rest here: Speaking Truth
I confess.
When I used to drive by an unkempt yard, a run down house or bumped into an untidy person, I would think, “Goodness! Don’t they care about their yard, home or appearance? They need to do better! I would NEVER let my (fill in the blank) look like that.”
I don’t do that anymore.
Because I’ve learned that there are all kinds of reasons a body may not be busy mowing a lawn, painting a porch or even putting on matching socks.
Read the rest here: Life Happens
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…
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
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
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
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
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
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
I’ve had some struggles this past week.
Family is messy.
There’s tension between who I am as an individual and who I am as part of the unit.
I want, above all, to be light, love and life to the people I love and even beyond-to the people I interact with online and in person in more casual spaces.
But it’s hard.
I’ve been reminded that the only way I can remain grounded in this world is to help my heart remember that this world is not all there is.
Heaven is my true home.
And when my flesh is exhausted, frustrated and overwhelmed with sadness I speak truth to my heart until it is ready to hear it.
❤ Melanie
It comes up often in bereavement groups:
What about signs from loved ones who have gone on to Heaven?
What about books that tell stories of people who have been to Heaven yet “allowed to return”?
What about cardinals and butterflies and feathers and dreams?
It would be so very easy to allow my feelings to rule my heart and to reject the truth of Scripture. It would be less of a struggle to walk this Valley of the Shadow of Death if I could “talk” to Dominic while waiting to join him.
But the Bible is plain: I cannot trust in anything or anyone but Jesus Christ. Every thing and every one else is fallible and will eventually lead me astray.
I wrote this a few months ago and hope it’s helpful to other grieving parents:
Read the rest here: Signs
This is very true.
I found that when I received the news of my son’s accident-it was Scripture I had hidden in my heart that helped me stand.
My Bible was available, but I could not open it. My heart was too broken to read.
But the Spirit brought to mind exactly what I needed from the storehouse of Scripture hidden in my heart.
I am still fighting for joy.
Read the rest here: The Fight For Joy is Not for the Unarmed
One year ago today I came in from Wednesday night church to a message on my answering machine:
“Melanie, when you get this, call me on my cell phone. I’m on my way to Dothan. Your mama was lifeflighted and I’m headed to the hospital”
I have no idea what else my dad said because that was as far as I got before shutting down the message and dialing his number with shaky fingers.
Because when you’ve endured the worst possible news-the news that is utterly final-it only takes half a second for your brain and body to jump from alright to utterly terrified.
Read the rest here: A Challenging Year: For Better or Worse
I was a debater and raised my kids as debaters.
There’s unique beauty in crafting an argument so it crescendos to an irrefutable conclusion.
For the the master orator, nothing is more satisfying than watching her audience lean in and anticipate the glorious finale.
Paul has been leading us to these verses since he began laying the foundation in chapter one of Romans.
Read the rest here: Scripture Journal Challenge: Closing Argument
I’ve often been the person who refused to go along with some group’s plan to ignore a real issue and try to talk around it.
I usually begin like this, “I know it’s hard to talk about, but let’s be honest and…”
I’m even more inclined in that direction now. If my son’s instant and untimely death has taught me anything, it’s taught me that there’s no use pretending.
So I’m not going to pretend: Western society doesn’t do grief well.
Read the rest here: The Elephant in the Room
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
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
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
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
I was challenged recently by a pastor’s sermon to evaluate how many times I put off the good I could do today until some future “tomorrow”.
It’s more often than I’d like to admit.
Even now, even though I’m oh, so aware tomorrow may never come I will make up an excuse why NOW is just. too. inconvenient.
❤ Melanie
Good is something you do, not something you talk about.
Gino Bartali
Some medals are pinned to your soul, not to your jacket.
Set aside the tweets and the memes
Set aside the scores and the football predictions
Set aside the latest greatest whatever.
Move it off the table of your heart
And create space for the truly important:
Read the rest here: Set it Aside
Labels and categories can be helpful. When cruising the grocery aisles I’m thankful for the signs that point the way to “vegetables” or “baking needs”.
But labels can be harmful when applied to people.
Read the rest here: Strong or Weak? How Labels Harm the Hurting
Child loss is often sibling loss.
It reshapes a life, a marriage and a family.
It makes it harder to absorb the blows life continues to throw.
My husband, myself and our earthbound children have learned to expect the worse and be delightfully surprised when it doesn’t come to pass.
❤ Melanie
I am always afraid that Dominic will be forgotten.
I’m afraid that as time passes, things change and lives move forward, his place in hearts will be squeezed smaller and smaller until only a speck remains.
Not in my heart, of course.
Or in the hearts of those closest to him, but in general-he will become less relevant.
But he is not the only one who can be forgotten. I am just as fearful that my living children will be forgotten.
Read the rest here: The Forgotten Ones: Grieving Siblings
![Gold Medal in Wrestling [Thoughts]](https://thelifeididntchoose.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/gold-medal.jpg?w=500)
I’m driving down the highway listening to the morning news brief. A quick mention that Paris is likely to get the bid for the 2024 Summer Olympics draws my attention.
I begin to do the math-when are the next Olympics? Oh, yes-2020. Three years away.
Double the time I’ve been without Dominic.
Read the rest here: Gold Medal in Wrestling [Thoughts]
My husband was sued for discrimination by a disgruntled employee. The whole thing started heating up just after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven in 2014. The suit was filed just before Christmas 2015.
We’ve been living with this awful thing hanging over our heads for nearly 3 years. Thankfully, the truth prevailed and my husband was exonerated.
But it took a huge toll on both of us and on our whole family.
I sat in a courtroom a few days ago feeling nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
I was waiting for a verdict that had the potential to change the rest of my life but I could not muster a single feeling.
Because when you’ve watched your child’s body lowered beneath the ground, there’s really not much else the world can do to you.
Read the rest here: Here’s The Post I’ve Wanted To Write But Couldn’t Before Today
I realize not every parent enters child loss with the same reverence for Scripture and trust in the promises of God that I had when Dominic left us.
So it may be hard for your heart to believe the words we’ve been reading and studying this month. It may be near impossible for you to feel that God is a good Father, that He has not abandoned you and that He has a purpose and plan for your life, even here in this awful Valley.
If you’ve read this blog for any length of time, you know that while I still have faith, it’s a tested faith. I have dragged every single thing I believed before Dominic ran ahead to Heaven, held it up and scrutinized it in the cold light of loss.
Read the rest here: Scripture Journal Challenge: Your Word Revives Me
August is hot in the American South.
School has started and folks like to pretend fall is on the way but we who have lived here long know that’s just a fantasy.
I always have mounds to do and it’s still too hot to really be motivated to do it.
So it’s probably not surprising that the combination of reminders, reality and regret roll over my heart and lead to exhaustion.
❤ Melanie
This actually happened one day last week and I was too ashamed to post it. I’m better now. But it took three days to recover from that emotional, physical, psychological and spiritual low point.
It required that I extend the grace to myself I would extend to another.
That’s actually harder than it sounds for someone who prefers to think of herself as the “good girl” and the “strong one”.
There’s only so much a body can take in a day. And I’ve reached the limit.
Started out pretty good-up with the chickens and settled into my rocking chair with a cup of coffee and my journal.
But it didn’t last.
Read the rest here: Spent
I’ve written before about anxiety and child loss here. No matter the cause of death, the FACT of a child’s death seems to create the perfect conditions for a parent’s body and mind to experience anxiety, dis-ease, fear and often a sense of impending doom.
My world was rocked to its foundation the moment I heard the words, “He was killed in a motorcycle accident”.
The worst thing I could imagine had come true.
Read the rest here: Anxiety is Awful!
Today’s posts are pretty raw.
And that’s what I’ve tried to bring to this space again and again-an authentic and unfiltered portrayal of grief, grace, faltering and faith.
Five years ago I was sitting in an uncomfortable chair in an uncomfortable situation. I had NO idea how it would turn out.
But I’d had practice by then.
I’d learned to let the tears fall when they needed to, to plaster a smile on my face when I had to and to cling tightly to truth because, in the end, that was the only way I’d make it.
If you are hanging on to hope by the thinnest of threads, let me encourage you.
I won’t promise “light at the end of the tunnel” as if it will be OVER one day.
But I will promise light in the darkness if you refuse to let go.
“Follow Me,” Jesus said to the twelve.
“Follow Me,” Jesus said to me when I was just a child.
“Yes,” I replied-not knowing or counting the cost.
If it was a single commitment without opportunity for turning back then it would be easy.
But it’s not.
Read the rest here: Surrender
I belong to several online bereaved parents’ groups and they are truly a lifeline in so many ways.
I can speak my mind there without fear of rejection or correction or of hurting my non-bereaved friends and family. I learn from other parents farther along in this journey how they cope with birthdays, anniversaries, holidays and every day grief triggers.
Sadly, there are new members added daily. New parents are forced to join this “club” where the dues are higher than anyone would willingly pay.
Read the rest here: Grief Groups and Echo Chambers
I wish I could write openly about the things that are going on right now in my life, but I can’t.
So you’ll just have to trust me when I say these past months-really this past year-has been the most challenging since the first 365 days after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven.
I have cried more in the past three weeks than I have cried in the past three years.
Read the rest here: Transparent, Vulnerable, Scared
Before Dominic ran ahead to Heaven I didn’t cry much.
Since April 12, 2014 I’ve cried a river-tears for breakfast, lunch, dinner and into my pillow at night when I tried to fall asleep.
When sorrow overtakes a heart, it’s hard to think about anything else.
There was a very real danger that sadness would drag me down in a pit so deep I would never be able to crawl back out.
And then the enemy of my soul would win.
But God.
Read the rest here: Scripture Journal Challenge: Tears Won’t Last Forever
If you wonder if all these crazy emotions are normal in grief, the answer is a resounding, “Yes!”.
Grief is a ball of emotions any one of which may demand more or less of your attention on a given day. It’s not just sadness or missing or sorrow or even pain.
Read the rest here: Wondering If All These Crazy Emotions Are Normal In Grief? Yes. Absolutely.
I was recently told by someone that my world was tiny.
It hurt my heart.
Not because it is factually inaccurate but because the person who said it implied that distance traveled from my front door equaled responsibility and influence. If I don’t wander hither and yon, then I’m inferior. If I don’t have paid employment then whatever I do doesn’t “really” count.
I know many bereaved parents have been forced to scale back commitments, maybe change jobs or retire early, and, like me, lead a smaller life than before.
I’m here to tell you that’s perfectly OK.
Read the rest here: It’s Alright To Be Little Bitty
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