I’ve discovered that self-control is not a limitless commodity.   Now before my Bible believing friends remind me that it is part of the fruit of the Spirit, I want to say this:  it sure is!  And because the Spirit of Jesus lives inside me I can promise you I am more self-controlled than I would otherwise be. BUT… When every single word, action, thought and feeling has to be reined in every waking moment, there is not enough self-control this side of heaven to do THA

One of the most devastating questions I had to face after Dominic ran ahead to heaven was, “What difference does prayer make?”   I had prayed-diligently prayed-for every one of my children since before they were born. Even Dominic’s name, which means “belonging to God” was chosen carefully to reflect my heart’s desire that this child follow hard after Jesus. So why didn’t prayer “work”?  Why did my son die in an accident when others live?

One thing burying my child is teaching me is this:  Every single person I meet is carrying a burden I know nothing about. And most are doing the very best they can to bear that load and still do life.

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

While I certainly had no real idea in the first hours or even weeks what losing a child entailed, I understood plainly that it meant I would not have Dominic to see, hold or talk to. I wouldn’t be able to hug his neck or telephone him.   He wouldn’t be sitting at my table any more. But the death of a child or other loved one has a ripple effect.  It impacts parts of life you might not expect.  As time went on, I was introduced to a whole list of losses commonly calle

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

I know Jesus is my Shepherd and I never doubt His companionship.  But if I’m honest, as much as I lean into that truth, it’s oh, so helpful to have a living, breathing human being walk with me. So when a friend reaches out and takes my trembling hand it calls courage to my heart. When we huddle together in the dark places, waiting out the storm of grief or doubt, it gives me strength to carry on. Never, never underestimate the power of presence.

I wish I could help those outside the child loss community understand just how much it takes for me and everyone like me to do what has to be done. We aren’t being lazy or overly emotional or “making too much of nothing”. We live in a different world than the rest of you.

I've gotten so good at stuffing an immediate emotional response I hardly ever cry anymore. Except that sometimes-random moments-the heavy lid I keep screwed down tight on all those feelings comes undone.  And I am helpless as the sorrow, missing and horror of child loss creeps up my spine, raises my heart rate and settles as a silent scream at the back of my throat.   A sob escapes.  The tears flow.

What objective criteria can be applied to every situation, every person, every death to determine whether someone is truly stuck in grief?  How do you take into account the circumstances of a death, the relationship of the bereaved to the deceased, trauma surrounding the event or any of a dozen other things that influence how long and how deeply one grieves a loss? Obviously there are certain signs that someone needs professional help. For the rest of us, “normal" grief c

This came up in a bereaved parents’ support group and I thought it was a great question:  “When you meet someone for the first time, do you tell them about your missing child?” It’s one of those practical life skills bereaved parents have to figure out. I remember when it dawned on me a few months after Dominic left us that I would meet people who wouldn’t know he was part of my story unless I told them. It was a devastating thought.   I had no idea how to answer.

I know you don't know. I didn't know before it was ME. But I truly believe you would love to be more aware and more equipped to help my heart and the hearts of others carrying deep and heavy grief.

For all my talk of boundaries and self-compassion, I rarely manage to keep others from invading my personal space and time I (theoretically) have reserved for my own priorities. I beat myself up for not showing up or giving up or giving in when someone calls, texts or messages. I rush to fill others' buckets without recognizing my own is empty.

Good things still happen in our lives (our bucket is being filled) but losing Dominic has put a hole in the bottom of it (the bucket never gets full anymore). It’s not that we don’t appreciate and enjoy happy moments.  We do. But we can’t plug the leak of loss that saps our strength and reduces the fullness of our joy.

Even though time plus doing the work grief requires better equips us to carry this load, the absolute weight of it never changes. Our fractured hearts never quite regain their pre-loss shape and life is forever altered because as long as we have breath, we will miss our child in Heaven. So having a designated month where it's socially acceptable to share about grief in general, our child in particular and whatever wisdom we've gained through hard experience is welcome r

Grief is SO MUCH MORE than sadness and missing. It is a tangled ball of emotions.

I keep repeating the mantra, “grace and space” to myself. I need grace-from my own heart FOR my own heart– I must cut myself the slack I would be happy to extend to others. I need grace from friends and family. You can never know all the ways I ache for the life I had before Dominic ran ahead to heaven.  You could never imagine all the daily pinpricks my soul must suffer as I walk in this world and am reminded of what I’ve lost.

It’s the promise that God is faithful, His word is true and this life is not all there is that gets us through. But for this mama’s broken heart, a few choruses in and I’m in tears.   While I am thankful, thankful, thankful that I know I will see my son again, these hymns remind me that a lifetime may lie between here and there.