I first shared this eight years ago so it may shock some folks that while I have finally tossed most of the things in my fridge that once belonged to Dominic, I’ve got a giant bottle of hot sauce I’m still using. Every time I add spicy flavor to chili I think of him. I’m not looking forward to the day it runs out because it will be one more link dissolved between the living son I knew in the flesh and the memories I have to settle for now.❤

Those hours before I planted one last kiss on my son’s forehead, I held his hand.   I nodded at the people filing past to pay their respects with my arm tucked behind me, desperate to cling to my child. And I’m still clinging.   I will not let him go.   I don’t care how many days or months or years march on taking me further from the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand or the brightness of his smile-I refuse to release my grasp.

My heart is that no one sitting in the darkness of child loss is left to think that darkness is all there is. I want to bring the light of hope to them wherever they are. You can help me do that.

Ninety miles an hour-that’s how fast my mind can go from here to there. From what’s in front of me to what’s behind me. From laughter to swallowing sobs.

I want my heart and my words to reflect that I know this Savior full of love and mercy. Spared or not, it’s no doing of mine.

I’m learning to stand up and speak my truth even when others don’t understand it. None of us chose to be bereaved parents.

Because of Jesus, while this reality is harsh, hard and heartbreaking, I have an eternity of rest, renewal and redemption to look forward to

Jealousy is a green-eyed monster and I want no part of it. I have to focus on the gift and not the loss.  I can't always do that.

when my son died suddenly in an accident and a deputy came to my door,  it changed me.  It modified who I am and who I will be.

I miss my child. I miss the family we used to be. I miss being blissfully ignorant of exactly how awful death is.

that’s what child loss does to a mama’s heart.  It shatters it into pieces so tiny and so fragile. And the pieces never make a whole.

The longer since his leaving, the more I feel I need to have it together in public. My tears are inexplicable to those who've forgotten,

I’m waiting for the day my tears will be redeemed.  Waiting for the restoration of what the enemy has stolen, for faith to become sight.

It’s different for every heart. But each of us who know child loss have a season of sorrow. It’s more than “just” the day our child left.

If you can, join us.  You may be nervous up to the very minute you show up or log on but I PROMISE you will not regret it. 

My son is not a number or a statistic or only a memory. He is integral to my story, blood of my blood –part of my life.

At the moment of my weakness, the Spirit speaks courage to my spirit. Jesus whispers, “You can do it” to my heart.

Lord, this season reminds me that whenever I am weak, You are strong. Is it alright if I grieve around You? I have to act strong...

Change is hard on everyone. But it's harder if you don't have important conversations.

It's normal that Dominic is less and less a part of his friends lives over time. But it still hurts...