Brooklyn, Brook, Brookie, Beebs. Beeba-leebs, Beiber, Leeber, Beezel. Sweet B. B. One name couldn’t contain you, but that’s your story, your light was not meant to be contained.
I can’t believe you’re gone.
I can’t believe I am standing here so soon.
Actually, I can.
You always did things your way and on your time. Continue reading “Uncontainable Light: A mother’s love letter from her daughter’s funeral”
I just want to be with you, B.
I can’t believe you’re gone. It’s a wave of panic that comes over me every time I let myself go there. There, to the place of full acknowledgement, painfully aware and present to your physical absence. You were the heavy in my arms, but now, they are heavier with you not in them.
I am trying, B.
Trying to take one grace-filled step after the other. I am making my bed and trying not to crawl back in it. I am showing up and want to hide, all in the same moment. When you are newly bereaved, again, even simple things are hard.
Continue reading “I can’t believe you’re gone.”
I am so tired.
I feel how Jayden looks-smashed and buried.
This weekend, I think I experienced every emotion God made.
First grade doesn’t stop for my youngest just because her sister died. I thought I missed her open house, but it’s tonight. I thought I missed the bus time, but I remembered they post it online. I thought school started today, but it’s tomorrow.
I’m all screwed up, but God knows.
What do we do on these days?
The days after the funeral?
The days when everyone else seems to move forward and we are left picking up the pieces of our shattered life?
What do we do when the cards and casseroles stop?
When people stop saying her name? His name?
How do we answer, “How many kids do you have?”
Continue reading “What do we do on Monday after the funeral?”
Gray. It’s my favorite color, but not when it comes to knowing. When it comes to knowing, I want answers. I want to know when. I want black or white.
But dying, like living, is full of gray.
As I type, just got an email notification from the middle school Jayden would have been attending if he didn’t have Sanfilippo. It was a reminder about the school dance tonight.
As I type, I listen to the rhythm of his breath. In the background, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse plays.
I can’t believe it’s snowing.
I can’t believe it’s November.
I can’t believe my son is dying.
Continue reading “Gray”
I walked Ellie to the bus stop this morning.
It was 47 degrees. Cloudy. With just enough warm left in the air to make the crisp, cold air inviting. I have really enjoyed the fresh air everyday the walk brings. I find myself craving it. It’s good for my soul.
I held her tiny hand in mine. She told me she’s the “chair helper” at school. If a kid forgets to push in their chair, she pushes it in for them. She’s really enjoying kindergarten. The sounds of spelling, singing about her colors, counting, reading, and playing school has become our soundtrack to this season.
It has felt right.
Continue reading “What Feels Right”
This is part two in a two-part series entitled: Field Notes from Pain
“Sometimes God allows what he hates to accomplish what he loves.”
― Max Lucado-
There was this youth group kid that whittled. You know, the art of taking a piece of wood and turning it into a troll or something. He did that. And he was good. I was fascinated- first, that a high school boy liked to whittle. Random. Then, I was fascinated by his work. He had an entire village of what I imagined to be Wemmicks. Continue reading “Field Notes from Pain: Part Two”
Hold onto your seats, friends, and grab the tissue. I can’t wait for you to meet my friend Kristen. Her story is remarkable. But what is even more remarkable is her faith in the midst of her circumstances. She has such a contagious joy that can only be understood in the context of her Savior, Jesus.
What if your worst nightmare came true? Could you praise God in the midst? Kristen’s faith is a challenge to us all. Thank you so much, Kristen for sharing your story of going from Type A to Plan B with such grace and joy.
Continue reading “How One Woman is Embracing Plan B After Her Son’s Tragic Accident: A Guest Feature by Kristen Clack”
So…. I can’t wait to introduce you to my new friend, Dawn! You know when your heart is whispering something, and then you meet someone else who says their heart is whispering the SAME thing? That’s what happened! Dawn and I connected through a mutual friend and when she began to share about the beauty in brokenness, trying to keep up, and unlocking the truth– I knew our souls were connecting, and we all would learn so much from the story God is writing in Dawn. So lucky for us, when I asked her to share, she said YES!
Continue reading “It’s Never Too Late to Find Freedom From a Shameful Past: A Guest Feature By Dawn Stewart”
This is the fourth post of a four part series: Confessions As I Anticipate Grief.
“As long as the people don’t fear the truth, there is hope. For once they fear it, the one who tells it doesn’t stand a chance. And today, truth is still beautiful… but so frightening.”
I don’t want to admit this, but I feel alone sometimes. In the sea of people in my home everyday, I feel alone. Not right now, because I am writing this alone, but when I am with people I feel alone. And knowing I can’t do it alone makes me feel like a failure. I know I am not, but I feel like I am. We can’t let feelings trump truth, can we? The truth is, I sound like a four year old when I say, “I can do it all by myself.”
Continue reading “Confessions As I Anticipate Grief: Part 4”
This piece is part three of a series of blog posts entitled, Confessions as I Anticipate Grief. You can check out part one or part two here.
“Just going to church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than standing in your garage makes you a car.”
I want to tell you I haven’t attended church much after I left my job there back in January. But that will make some of you nervous. It made me nervous. That is until I discovered why. I needed time to breathe. And now, my soul has never been more alive. There’s no scandal; no drama. I just spent nine years working at a church, trying to make it better for everyone else and lost myself in the process. As I created environments, experiences, and conversations that brought people closer to God, I forgot to participate.
We all can get lost in our jobs and forget why we are doing it, can’t we?
Continue reading “Confessions as I Anticipate Grief: part 3”