For the profound wounds of life, there are no quick fixes.  There is no easy healing. We endure because God through His Spirit lends us strength. We make it through because Jesus promises to redeem and restore. And because friends remind us with their presence that God is near.

Suffering is hard but it won’t last forever. “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” Revelation 21:4 NIV

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.   We cannot celebrate a mother’s love and then dismiss her grief.

It would be helpful if the world could just stop for a day or a week (or a year!) when your heart is shattered by the news that one of the children you birthed into this world has suddenly left it. But it doesn’t. Immediately all the roles I have played for decades are overlaid by a new role:  bereaved mother.  This role is more like a foggy blanket that obscures and disorients me as I struggle to fulfill all the roles to which I’ve become accustomed.

There are so many ways child loss impacts relationships! And every. single. relationship. gets more complicated.   When your heart is shattered, there are lots of sharp edges that end up cutting you and everyone around you.  It’s pretty much inevitable that one or more relationships will need mending at some point..

It cannot be overstated:  holidays are extremely hard after loss.  Every family gathering highlights the hole where my son SHOULD be, but ISN’T. There is no “right way” or “wrong way” to handle the holidays after losing a child. For many, there is only survival-especially the very first year. These days also stir great internal conflict:  I want to enjoy and celebrate my living children and my family still here while missing my son that isn’t. Emotions run high and are, oh

Know that this is not what I would have chosen. Child loss happened TO me. It is out of my control. And the calendar pages keep turning.  Every holiday season means another year gone without the companionship of the child I miss. I want to continue to embrace life, to enjoy my loved ones, to make new memories. But I need your help to make it happen.

I know that all these suggestions require additional emotional energy when we feel we are already tapped out.  We are already carrying a load that can crush a spirit-it seems unfair that we have to initiate the conversation, offer alternatives and give grace. But they do not understand. And they may not know where to start. We have to remain focused on the goal:  Surviving the holidays.

For grieving parents, it takes some thinking, some planning and some preparation to meet both extended family’s expectations and extra responsibilities at Thanksgiving and Christmas while carrying a load of sorrow and pain. One thing I am learning in this journey is that even though I wish someone else would blaze the trail for me, I’m going to have to do it myself.  And because every major milestone is overflowing with emotional booby-traps, I have to plan ahead.

Most parents feel a little stressed during the holidays. For bereaved parents, the rush toward the “Season of Joy” is doubly frightening. Constant reminders that this is the “most wonderful time of the year” make our broken hearts just that much more out of place.  Who cares what you get for Christmas when the one thing your heart desires–your child, alive and whole–is unavailable… Here are some practical ways family and friends can help grieving parents during the holida

I will confess: I’m no better at this than the first set of holidays after Dominic ran ahead to Heaven. Every. Single. Year. has brought changes and challenges on top of the empty chair round the family table.

Every time I tell the story of Dominic, it helps to keep him real.  Dom was always ready to create a funny and memorable photo! It reminds my heart that he lived, that he mattered, that he matters still. And in the telling, I am giving away a little bit of him for another heart to carry.  His light is passed to another soul that can pass it to another and another.

Because child loss is so devastating and painful, it’s easy to believe the only logical reason for this agony is that it’s punishment. It took me awhile to allow the Holy Spirit to lead me into the truth that it is not. All the punishment for sin was borne by Jesus.

One of the gifts grief has given me is that I just do not have the energy to keep my mask on straight. So I’ve decided to take it off. And I find that when I do, people aren’t horrified, they are relieved. Because that means they can take theirs off too.

One of the greatest challenges I faced this side of child loss was finding a space where I could speak honestly and openly about my feelings toward God and about my faith. So many times I was shut down at the point of transparency by someone shooting off a Bible verse or hymn chorus or just a chipper, “God’s in control!” They had NO IDEA how believing that (and I do!) God is in control was both comforting and utterly devastating at the very same time.

I can go from tearful to joyful in a heartbeat too.  I am even more grateful for the children that walk the earth with me.  I try harder to be present, to listen, to lean in and love more fully. The broken me is a more compassionate woman who knows the value of a minute spent with someone you love.   I’ve learned to shift the weight of grief to one hip and make room for other things.   It’s hard.   It’s going to stay hard.  But with God’s help, I’m strong enoug

I no longer feel betrayed.   I still don’t like this life. I would never have chosen this life.   But I will trust the One Who made me to carry me through it.

It was a long time before I wanted to believe that I received any gifts worth keeping from this life I didn’t choose. I knew I had tears, pain, agonizing sorrow, loss, heartache, dashed hopes, empty arms. If I could give those back and regain my son, I would do it in less than a heartbeat. I can’t, so I’m left here to ponder what else I’ve received from burying a child.

It IS frustrating AND exhausting.   But I am learning (slowly, very slowly!) that it is oh, so much better! Instead of energy spent on being wounded and trying to hide it, I’m learning to speak up, own the wounds and suggest ways to prevent them in the future.  

We enter this world when we leave our mother’s womb. That is the beginning. But our lives never end.  We are eternal beings, created in the image of God, destined to spend forever with Him-IF we receive the gift of redemption made possible by the blood of Christ Jesus.