I’m learning to let go of offense. Not only because it is too heavy to carry in addition to my grief, but because the Lord commanded it.

When taking care of others means NOT taking care of myself, then in the end, I’m of no use to anyone

Grief means there is already a low-level hum of background stress every. single. day.

If you can’t do it all, do something. And celebrate.

Child loss is lonely. But you don’t have to be alone. An isolated heart is especially vulnerable to discouragement and despair.

Truth is, unless I face my feelings, give my heart time to experience them and work toward processing them, I cannot even begin to heal.

I walked around like a giant nerve for the first weeks and months after Dominic left us. It didn’t take much for me to burst into tears.

Sleep is important. I can’t do the work grief requires if I go too long without it.

I’ve learned it’s best to find quiet moments to journal feelings that might be unhelpful or downright hurtful to express to others.

When faced with a wall of overwhelming and cascading feelings, I do the next right thing-whatever that may be until I see a sliver of light.

I’ve learned the hard way that memories are precious.  I don’t want the ones I’m making now to always be tainted by sorrow and loss.