grieving – With Eyes on the Cross

Celebrating Birthdays Without Him

Today is his earthly birthday. He would have been 25 years old, a quarter of a century. A pivotal age when family and careers are beginning. I can’t help but wonder where he would be in life. Married? College graduate? Children? Preaching? Those are questions that will never be answered. Just musings that I will have as long as I continue to walk this earth. The wonderings of what might have been.

My daughter and I were chatting on the phone a few days ago. She confessed that she just didn’t have any motivation and could feel herself falling into a funk. She said she couldn’t figure out why. There wasn’t anything going on that was bothering her. I suggested she look at the calendar. It hit her immediately. Brother’s birthday is coming. We both have been feeling it. Even when we don’t acknowledge grief, the body does. The body doesn’t forget or even need the calendar. It just knows.

It isn’t just today that is hard. The days leading up are also hard. I struggle with motivation. I tend to sleep more. I’m just sad. We have heard so many bereaved parents share that the people around them want them to be better, to be over their child’s death. There is a significant reason why that is just not possible.

Grief is love with no place to go.

The absolute best description of grief I have heard. Grieving parents can’t get over it. They can’t be like they used to be. They will forever have all of this love for a child that isn’t here for them to love.

It’s also no wonder that the days leading up are hard. Those are the days that we should have been planning and shopping and baking his favorites. But he isn’t here. So, we can’t shower him with all of the love that we feel. That’s why we are sad. That’s why we can’t get motivated. We can’t do what we long to do and celebrate him today.

So, what do we do on his birthday? We mope for a while. That is literally our plan for the morning. We just hang out at home in our pajamas. We wrap the sadness around us like a blanket and just sit in our sorrow for a bit. Around lunch time, one of us will get the motivation to get up and get dressed, and will encourage the other one to do the same. Then, we drive to a local bakery and pay for random birthday cakes. We can’t buy him a birthday cake, but maybe buying one for someone else will help ease the sadness. It does. We feel a little less burdened. And then, we go have a steak and a Dr. Pepper. It’s what he would have requested.

Today, in honor of his birthday, Michael, Elizabeth, and I want to share 25 things that we love about Joshua!

His infectious smile that would change the mood of a room.
His white hair.
His love for Jesus.
His compassion for anyone in need.
His pranks.
His corny pick up lines.
The way he loved his sister and wasn’t embarrassed for anyone to know.
His gift for encouraging others.
His respect for our military.
His love for our family.
His selflessness.
He accepted his heart condition and continued to live life happily.
His love for everyone regardless of age or socioeconomic status.
His ability to overcome disappointment.
His HUGS!
His ability to be receptive during tough conversations.
The way he rejoiced and celebrated the successes of others.
His photo bombs.
His first instinct to pray anytime there was a need.
His love for the game and not just for winning.
His larger than life laugh.
His generosity to total strangers.
His eagerness to forgive.
His willingness to admit mistakes and say I’m sorry.
The way his head always bobbed when he was playing the marimba.

There are so many more reasons that we loved him. He left a huge void in our lives when he left this earth. We are forever changed for having known him. We are forever changed because he isn’t here to share life with us.

Grief is a difficult road. We know what the future holds and can simultaneously cling to that while still being sad. We grieve because we loved. We know that one day we will be called home too. One day we will be reunited with those we love for all of eternity. It’s not a hope. It’s a promise from God.

A Race Well-Lived

I have struggled and struggled over what to say in this post. A dream that I have had since I was an eight-year-old little girl is becoming reality today, and I am experiencing so many emotions.

I am so excited today to fulfill this lifelong goal, and that has caused me immense guilt. There have been some weak moments during this process where I have allowed some lies to seep into my heart. Yes, my dream is coming true, and it came at a great price. The things I learned, the journey that I had to take came as a result of burying a child. The truth is, satan doesn’t want me to be excited today. He wants me to keep telling myself that I only wrote a book because Joshua died. He wants me to feel guilt. And there have been times when he won those battles. He won’t win the war.

What I can tell you with 100% certainty is that I wouldn’t have made it the last eight years without God. It would have been easy to question God. It would have been easy to become angry with Him and walk away. How could a good and loving God allow such terrible things to happen? The truth is, God put us on this earth and gave us free will. We walked away from Him; He didn’t walk away from us.

Our Heavenly Father, our Creator chases after us with so much love and so many blessings, if only we could open our eyes and our hearts to see it all! We have all had opportunities to walk away, but like Simon Peter said in Luke 6:68 “Lord, to whom shall we go?” No one could comfort or rescue me like God! I pray that God is honored and glorified through our story. I pray that people will read it and run towards God with open arms knowing that only He can rescue them.

This has not been an easy journey, and I don’t want one minute of it to be wasted. My son lived his race so well, and I want others to live theirs well! Losing Joshua was so hard! It still is. God didn’t cause it to happen, and I want to shout from the rooftops what He has done for us, how faithful He has been every single step of this brutal journey. So, yes, I will be excited about reaching this goal and let go of the guilt that is not based in God’s truth!

If you are interested in purchasing A Race Well-Lived, click here.

It’s No Secret

I treasure the time that I get to spend with other grieving parents. That sounds odd, right? I wouldn’t have chosen this path had there been an option. None of us would have. Yet here we are. So we travel it together. There is just something about spending time with someone who is on the same journey that brings healing and comfort. We can talk about anything. There are things we can talk about when we are together that we can’t talk about with those who have not lost a child. Sadly, one of the most important being our children. Doesn’t make much sense, does it?

Unfortunately, one of the more common discussions among grieving parents is, “What am I supposed to say when my family or my friends think I should be over this by now. They don’t like it when I talk about my child.” This is such a heart wrenching situation to face. We won’t get to see our sweet babies again this side of Heaven. We like to reminisce. We like to share their stories. We love to say their names. We love to hear their names. It’s like a balm that soothes a hurting heart.

I recently heard a profound description of someone who was grieving, “It’s no secret that she is grieving. It’s no secret that her hope is in the Lord.” What a beautiful thing to say! And, what a beautiful, healthy way to grieve.

Grief is hard because it is uncomfortable. It can’t be fixed with words, casseroles, or a few days of rest. It is hard to helplessly stand by and watch someone cry. We don’t like to watch people hurt, especially when there is nothing that we can do to fix the root cause of the pain.

But what if we embraced the grieving without trying to fix them? What if we just sat with them in their sadness? When a grieving parent speaks their child’s name or repeats the same story about their child, they are not trying to make you feel awkward or uncomfortable. Trust me, they are in those situations enough that they don’t try to create them. They are simply trying to be a part of a conversation where they already feel out of place and lonely. What if we just listened?

Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was. Job 2:13

Job’s friends were a gift to him. It wasn’t a secret that he was grieving, so they came and sat with him in his grief and didn’t say a word. They knew they couldn’t help him, and they didn’t want him to be alone. For seven days, they were the perfect friends. (I don’t want to talk about what happened next because that is not the purpose of this post.)

Not only should our grief not be a secret, we should use it to point others back to God.

1 Thessalonians 4:13 tells us that we do not grieve like those without hope. We grieve. That’s no secret and neither should the hope that we have be kept quiet. We serve a faithful God who will never leave us or forsake us. We need to share who He is even when the waves of grief are unrelenting as they crash down on us.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18

The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in Him. Nahum 1:7

God has been my refuge. He has brought me comfort and healing in so many different ways since Joshua ran ahead to Heaven. He is available anytime day or night no matter where I am. He is always there with me.

“I tell you,” He replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” Luke 19:40

If I don’t praise God, the rocks will. I don’t want it to be a secret how He has carried me through this. I want everyone to know that He fulfills His promises. He has never failed me, even during my darkest days when I have questioned Him.

Our son walked this earth for 16 very short years. He made a mark. I will grieve his absence even while I cling to God’s promise of our eternity together. I will talk about him a lot! I don’t want it to be a secret that I miss him, nor do I want it to be a secret that my hope is in the Lord.

Crying during the Sad Parts

Michael and I recently attended a retreat for bereaved parents. Before Joshua died, I couldn’t imagine attending something that sounded so depressing. In fact, most people would expect that such a weekend would be miserable. It is far from it. Is it a difficult weekend? Yes. Even somewhat awkward at least for the first few minutes. And then, we start talking about our children.

We laugh, we cry, we have conversations that are encouraging and uplifting. We have deep conversations about God, faith and Heaven. We share our struggles and our triumphs. Although we each grieve differently, we share the same pain.

This weekend, I heard one of the most beautiful statements. Carrie Evins, another waiting mom, shared with us a quote from Steve Swift.

“He cried. He knew Lazarus was dead before He got the news. But still, He cried. He knew Lazarus would be alive again in moments. But still, He cried. He knew this world is not home. He knew death here is not forever. He knew eternity and the Kingdom better than anyone else could. And He wept. Because this world is full of pain and regret and loss and depression and devastation. He wept because knowing the end of the story doesn’t mean you can’t cry at the sad parts.”

Read that last line again: “Knowing the end of the story doesn’t mean you can’t cry at the sad parts.”

I know the end of the story. I will see Joshua again, and I am going to continue to cry at the sad parts, even almost seven years later. We know that he is safely tucked away in Heaven, and we know that someday we will join him. Until then, there will be days that are just harder than others. There will be days that his absence is even more noticeable.

It is hard to watch people hurting; even more so when we know there is nothing that we can do to ease the pain or fix the situation. Sometimes people want to avoid any mention of someone who has moved on to Heaven. If you know a parent waiting to be reunited with a child in Heaven, please say their child’s name to them. They might cry. It’s okay. That doesn’t mean they have lost hope. Jesus wept during the sad parts and it’s okay if we do too.

The Ghosts of Christmases Past

Christmas is not what it used to be. There is no pitter patter of tiny feet in our home anymore. Which means there are no plates of cookies to fill for Santa and his reindeer, no stories to be read on Christmas Eve, and no one to coax to bed early. We are in a different season.

Not only has our season changed, due to loss, things are also not the way I imagined they would be. There were no presents to wrap for an amazing cotton top last night. And that tore at my heart. Yes, it has been six years; that doesn’t change the pain of longing for what was supposed to be.

And while I’m sad, I’m also happy about some of the new traditions that have begun. New traditions to look forward to on Christmas morning.

This year, we are spending Christmas in the home of our daughter and son-in-love. Things are calmer. There are fewer gifts to unwrap (and I can’t blame Santa anymore if I get something wrong). There are no gifts to assemble after Christmas and far less noise than I recall from the past.

Yet, there is also a peace. A peace that comes from knowing that someday everyday will be like Christmas because we will get to be with those we love. We will get to spend an eternity with our Saviour. The One who came to earth as a baby to give us a gift greater than anything that will be under any tree this year.

Holidays can be difficult when we miss those that we love. And many of us will spend the day wrestling with both joy and sadness. It’s easy to let what used to be put a cloud over what is. To let the memories of the past haunt the present.

My prayer is that we can smile remembering what was while also spending the day filled with hope for what is to come because of a precious baby laid in manger. A Saviour who willingly humbled Himself and became the sacrifice that would save us.

Merry Christmas to all of you and prayers for joy, peace and the gift of hope.

Helping the Hurting

Throughout our grief journey, we have been blessed by so many who have reached out to help. While many of these suggestions may seem small to you, for those who are grieving, any one of these says, “I love you. You are not alone in this journey. Let me share the burden.”

1. Pray for them – every single day.

2. Send a card – or even more than one. One gentleman from church sent us cards for months. Include a story about their loved one. It will be treasured forever. I kept all the cards that were sent to us and still read them.

3. Take a meal over or send a gift card to a restaurant – it is so difficult to find the energy to plan and prepare a meal. This lifts a burden. We also had a couple of families who invited us into their homes to eat and share stories about Joshua.

4. Text – never underestimate the power of a text letting a family know you are praying for them. Write out the scripture, not just the reference, and let them know specifically what you are praying for when you text.

5. When you go to the store, call the family. Let them know you are going to the store and would love to pick up some things for them. Ask if they need milk, bread or toilet paper.

6. Handle an outside chore. Pull weeds in the flower bed. Someone mowed our yard. Another friend put up Christmas lights on the exterior of our home.

7. Drop off a care package – it does not have to be much. Maybe some snacks, a magazine or some tissues (travel size too!) Some precious little girls in the neighborhood made us cookies one day and dropped them off with the sweetest note. They did not even know that it was nearing the one-year anniversary of our son’s death but just the fact that they remembered him touched our hearts deeply.

8. Offer to help when it is time to go through their loved one’s things. The day I decided to start cleaning out Joshua’s room was so incredibly difficult. A friend asked if she could come over and just sit in the room with me. She said she would love to hear all of the stories that I would think of as I went through his things.

9. Take a friend or two and go help around the house. Cleaning the bathrooms, mopping the floors and dusting are chores on a regular day. When grieving, those things almost become insurmountable tasks.

10. Invite your friend to go out to lunch or grab coffee. Talking with just one or two people is so much easier than socializing in small groups.

11. If your friend has small children, offer to take them for an afternoon to give her some time to grieve alone and uninterrupted.

12. If the death is that of a child, do not forget the siblings. They are hurting deeply and may not know how to handle the grief. Our daughter was blessed by those who remembered her.

13. Continue to invite people who are grieving to events. When they decline, be understanding. People who are grieving feel sad and burdened. They don’t want to dampen anyone else’s spirits. One day, they will be ready to accept those invitations again.

14. In conversations with someone who is grieving, say their loved one’s name. Still today, when someone says Joshua’s name, it is like a balm that soothes my soul.

15. You can never go wrong with a hug and the words, “we love you and are praying for you.” That is probably the greatest gift our family received. The fervent prayers of many brothers and sisters as they lifted our family to the throne of the One who offers a peace that passes understanding.

Finally, and most importantly, thank you! Thank you for your willingness to minister to those who are hurting so deeply. I pray that God will bless you with wisdom and understanding as you serve Him.

Moving F.O.R.W.A.R.D. with Grief (Part 1)

Grief is hard. It’s messy. It’s not a nice, neat list of stages. It’s more like a ball of yarn knotted together with multiple stages happening all at the same time.

it’s an individual journey, and everyone navigates it differently. My husband and I lost the same son, and we have grieved differently. My grandmother and I have both lost a child, and we have grieved differently. It can feel very isolating. People don’t know how to treat you. Do I express my condolences? Do I share a story? Do I say his name? No, she might cry.

“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.” Jamie Anderson

October is here. I love the fall colors. Yet, it is also a very difficult month. I feel like I spend most days in October holding my breath. Hoping that I can keep myself together. Even when I try not to look at the calendar, my body knows and remembers.

On October 1, 1996, I experienced my first significant loss when my grandfather passed away. This amazing man built me a Barbie doll house. He built me stilts and laughed as I tried to walk on them. He made me a slingshot and taught me how to use it. He taught me to drive. The day before he died, we found out I was pregnant with our first child. I never got to tell him.

October 29th, 2001, I experienced my next significant loss – my step father. I adored that man. And I was so grateful for the joy he brought to my mom. Joy that I heard in her laughter and saw in her eyes.

October 15th, 2013. My mom had surgery to have a cancerous tumor removed. It was not successful. Doctors gave her two years. I came home from spending a couple of weeks caring for her and three days later found myself in the emergency room begging God to save our 16-year-old son, Joshua. Doctors were frantically trying to resuscitate him. They did. We were airlifted to Children’s Hospital in Little Rock and three days later, we sent him on to Heaven ahead of us.

Two months later, my husband’s uncle died.

Two months after that, his dear great aunt. She was the one who would give him cookies when his grandmother said he had had enough.

Two months later, my mom left this earth to receive her eternal reward. We didn’t get two years with her.

We were terrified to answer the phone two months after that. Grief is exhausting and we were living in a fog. I remember feeling accomplished if I had brushed my teeth and got to school with matching shoes. I didn’t care if they matched what I was wearing, just as long as they matched each other.

Our entire world had been turned upside down. Everything was so different. Our morning commute, our after school activities, our place at church. The grocery store list no longer included his favorite foods. Even going out to eat was heart-wrenching – “just 3” the hostess would say. It felt like a punch in the gut. She couldn’t have known.

I don’t know how we would have survived without the outpouring of love – from the church, from our neighbors, from the teachers at my school. Yet there comes a time when everyone has to go back to their own lives, and we have to make a decision. We had to choose how we would live while we waited to be reunited with our sweet boy. Would we allow anger and bitterness to control us or would we look to the cross? It looks easy on paper. It isn’t in reality. It’s hard. How could we possibly live well while mourning someone who was no longer here with us.

“Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope.” 1 Thessalonians 4:13 (NIV)

Does that mean we don’t grieve? Of course not! We are sad. We miss him every single day. It says we do not grieve as those without hope. Before Jesus brought Lazarus back from the dead, He wept. We grieve. We also anticipate a reunion in Heaven that is beyond anything our human minds can fathom.

This month, we will navigate the 6th anniversary of our boy child receiving his reward. It took awhile, but one of our most significant moments was when we realized that God was not punishing us when Joshua died. He was rewarding Joshua for a life well lived. Our worst day ever, was his absolute best.

What does grieving with hope look like?

It means moving FORWARD with grief. Not moving on or moving past it but carrying it with us as we are learning to live again and learning to find joy in the mourning.

The next seven posts are going to look at specific steps we can take to move FORWARD as we grieve. I hope you will join us on the journey and share some of the ways that you have moved forward as you have grieved.