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.

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

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.

I've seen physical, mental and spiritual healing at every retreat.   Some moms have said they haven't slept this well since their child went to Heaven. One mom told me she never made the connection between her faith and grief until this weekend. Every mom has come away strengthened for the lifelong journey ahead of her and better equipped to share the light, love and life of Christ as a broken but beautiful vessel for the Lord.

We are rapidly approaching the one year mark of launching the official ministry of Heartache and Hope-a formal recognition of work I'd been doing among the bereaved and those who love them for nearly a decade and I wanted to give a brief update on how things are going.

The first time I shared this I was trying to distill years of walking the broken road of child loss into a relatively few, easy to think about, “lessons”. Since then I could add a dozen more but today I’ll only add one: Being a bereaved parent is not my IDENTITY but it impacts who I am in ways I’m still figuring out. Just as being married or being female or being from the southern United States informs how I walk in the world and interact with others so, too, does having bu

“Yay You!” to every heart that chooses to persevere even when it’s hard or uncomfortable

We say we want real. But we really don’t. We tune in by the millions to watch “reality TV” even though we know the drama is manufactured...

The life I see is not all the life there is.  In fact, it’s not even the best life there is.  The best is yet to come when all this pain and sorrow and hurt will be redeemed.  My heart and my family will be restored.  My tears will be wiped away and I will stand in the glorious Presence of God and Christ forever. I have a choice of what I allow to fill my broken heart.  I will not choose bitterness. Bitterness is buried with the heart that carries it.  But love lasts forever

Dear mama, dear daddy, give yourself permission not to try to figure out what a parent’s heart was never meant to calculate-how to live without the earthly companionship of the child you love-and just breathe.   One day at a time. One moment at a time. One breath at a time.

The people who choose to stay and offer compassionate companionship are a vital part of healing after child loss.

I work hard to find something for which to be thankful each day. I try to get outside and breathe in the fresh air and soak up the sunshine. And when I have a rainy day-whether it is literally dripping water from the sky or simply dripping tears from my eyes-I try to do something that will help my heart hold on.

It seems unbearable to think ahead to the possible years of doing this hard thing.  And it is- UNBEARABLE.  If I look at the missing writ large across the rest of my life, I will crumble beneath the weight of it. Yet, I only have to live this moment, this breath, this day.

In my most desperate days, C.S. Lewis held a lantern in the dark for my heart. I’m so grateful for his absolute honesty and bravery in revealing the angst, questions and pain of great loss. I continue to quote him as proof that it’s not “just me”. Even a titan of the faith, a man who gave an exquisite apology of Christianity, was as vulnerable as the next person to doubt.

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,

It is neither helpful nor healthy to pretend that sorrow and sadness don’t follow loss.  

All those things that are outside the perfect will of God-the pain, the heartache-aren’t outside His power of redemption.

Heaven will not simply be rest after a long life’s struggle. It will be restoration, redemption, recreation and resurrection.

God reached down and raised me up from the depths of despair. He dragged me out of the pit of sorrow.

Join me for a month of exploring what the Bible says about grief. It's a great way to begin a new year & to feed hope to your heart.