Valentine’s Day? I’d Rather Not.

Valentine’s Day?  I’d Rather Not.

Grief changes everything. Take Valentine's Day, for example. Chocolate candies, fresh flowers, sweet greeting cards, and candlelight dinners for two seem harmless enough. Who wouldn't want to celebrate love and romance, after all? But for grievers, holidays are challenging and, well, just hard. Maybe you can relate? Or, perhaps someone close to you can? 

Let's meet Sandra and James. Today, I want to tell you their story. 

Sandra was grieving her momma's death and sorting through a string of disappointments and heartache in an attempt to find someone, anyone, with whom to share her life. She was wrecked, exhausted by grief, and hanging on by a thread when James came along. Despite having decided she'd take a break from dating, she agreed to dinner and a movie with James. He was polite and kind, but Sandra was mostly unimpressed. She was unimpressed at least until realizing she actually missed him during the week following their date. After one more date, curiosity replaced disinterest. She found James to be kind, tender-hearted, and always giving of himself. He was carefully attentive to her heart. The romance and engagement were a bit of a whirlwind, but they just knew. They fit, and no one could argue! Because of James, Sandra finally understood what it meant to be fully and wholly loved, brokenness and all. This love was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of love -- a gift from God, a treasure. 

But the story takes a sudden and unwanted twist two years after they were married. One morning, Sandra woke as James, lying next to her, suffered a massive heart attack. He died at the hospital. Sorrow landed on her with indescribable, heart-wrenching pain. And, so Sandra finds herself grieving on days when she should be celebrating. 

Today, Sandra bravely shared her heart with me in a conversation about love, loss, and moving through grief. Why? Because she hopes her story can offer a shred of hope to other grievers. 

Q: Do you find holidays like Valentine's Day particularly hard? Why or why not?

Sandra: I think holidays and memorable dates (anniversaries) are hard, although I don't always realize the impact until I'm in the moment or until after the day has passed. I feel like I have to work hard not to ruin other people's holidays/major events because I'm grieving. I work through significant dates by taking each moment, each day, each week, and leaning on God. 

Q: What are things other people do that you find most helpful when your grief swells up? What do you wish people wouldn't do?

Sandra: To be honest, support comes in different ways. I want friends and family to check on me; but, I also need them to understand when I need space. Don't avoid the topic. That doesn't make it hurt less. It's more helpful to the healing process when I'm able to talk about it if I need to. Let me feel my emotions and pain without trying to talk me out of it by saying things like, "James wouldn't want you to feel this way" or "You should be over this by now." Unsolicited advice and opinions are more hurtful than helpful. When people tell you where you should be in the process, that's hurtful. Sometimes support is just your presence (even if you're silent).

Q: What are some other things that have helped along the way? 

Sandra: In grief, it's hard to sort out what's real and what's not real. So, find an anchor. For me, it was God, my family, and the people in my church. I have friends who've experienced loss and understand it. So, they were able to help me when I needed it most. Also, finding a Christian counselor was important. When you bury a loved one, you bury hopes and dreams along with him or her, all the plans you've made. It's loss in a lot of different ways. I also have to pay attention to how my body is responding. Sometimes, I need more sleep, so I sleep, for example. 

Q: What might you say to someone else who is just starting their grief journey? What would you want them to know? 

Sandra: This is your journey and process, and people may not understand your pain and heartache. They may not be familiar with the longing left in your heart after such loss. People can't hear the conversations and see the moments you replay in your mind as you process a new reality. Grieve at your own pace. Most importantly, losing someone you love isn't something you GET OVER or forget. You move forward. Sometimes it doesn't hurt as bad, and other times the pain is as raw as the first day. Some days you feel like you're making progress, but then something takes you back. Those moments are not setbacks, but they are part of the process. Don't be afraid to set healthy boundaries for yourself. Seek counseling, accept help, and take your time grieving. God's everlasting love will bring healing and redemption. Just keep going.

There it is, friends. Just keep going. Healing is hard work, but there is hope. Sandra is living proof. Give yourself space and the grace to grieve. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. You are not alone. 

James + Sandra on their wedding day, April 2011. James passed away in June 2013.

{Five Minute Friday | Enjoy}

It's Five Minute Friday. That means unplanned, unedited, straight-from-the-heart-to-the-paper writing. Yep, you just write whatever comes out based on a word you're given. If you have five minutes, you should give it a try!  Find out how here.

This week the prompt is {ENJOY}.

Ready? GO.

I get super-excited about Fall. Some of my favorite things are wrapped up in this season: colorful leaves, crisp morning air, pumpkin-spice everything, firepits, s'mores, turkey, family, football, boots, flannel shirts, cute scarves. Are you smiling? I mean, what girl doesn't feel like she can conquer the world in her favorite pair of blue jeans, a great flannel shirt, and a perfect pair of boots, pumpkin-spice latte in hand. It's my most favorite time of year, lots of things to enjoy.  

But, wait.

I'm quick to remember a time when there was less to enjoy and more to grieve.  When you suffer an incredible loss, pain tries to hijack everything you love about your favorite time year. Stumbling through the holidays grappling with grief and loss is no fun. But, I suppose you find a way to enjoy bits and pieces. You learn to hold grief and gratitude in a kind of healthy tension -- enjoying the moments right in front of you while at the same time remembering those moments that forever changed you.

And then, there's Jesus. My heart will be forever grateful for His unfailing love and faithfulness. He heals and redeems even the most painful moments, eventually, that is. And then, you find gratitude in the midst of your grieving.

Maybe you're still waiting. Perhaps for you, the pain left in the wake of loss is still quite raw. Don't lose hope.  I'm praying for you today. I'm asking God to remind you of His goodness and His nearness. I'm trusting that He will soothe your aching heart by reminding you of His unfailing love.  He sees you.

STOP.

{#RealLife | No. 2}

We made it. The rush of the season is starting to calm and perhaps there’s a little rest to be had. I’m worn out. Plum tuckered. Exhausted. You too? 

Yesterday, I was up early with good intentions. I planned to cook some tilapia for lunch; so, I wanted to prep it before leaving for church. I prepped it, put it in the slow-cooker, and left. Without turning it on. Yep, you read that right. To say my house smelled of stinky fish, well, it was awful. Just awful. We had to throw it out given that it sat out at room temperature for no less than seven hours.  It’s probably all for the best because here’s a snap shot of the kitchen just before I left that morning.

Ah, my kitchen. It’s the hub of activity in the house. Everyone passes through the kitchen every time they come and go which means sometimes it’s a catch-all. Like this week. Every flat surface, covered. Dishes in the sink. Oh, and you can’t see it in the picture, but there’s a broken light bulb in the fixture above the table. (That, by the way, is still driving me crazy!) Even if I had properly cooked the fish, we couldn’t have very easily sat down at the table for a meal. Thankfully, we were treated to lunch out by my dad. For dinner, though, we had rice and Big Red floats. In the family room. Then we played board games on the floor. It was a good night. My kitchen is still a bit of a mess; although, the mess has been contained to one end of the table and one corner of the island. The mess represents something more than the chaos of the season. It’s a picture of the generosity shown us by our family and friends. People gave us stuff because they love us. We are loved. And blessed. Even when we didn’t have the means to give a lot in return. But, that’s not the point, is it? We don’t give generously in hopes of receiving things in return. We give generously just because we can. Generosity looks different for some folks than for others. It’s not always an expensive gift, that’s for sure. Generosity is a matter of the heart. A grateful heart loves lavishly and gives generously. Always.

That reminder was worth this mess.

{Don't Forget to Remember}

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite times of celebration. Let’s see - there is turkey, dressing, dumplins, and pumpkin pie. After we feast, we usually spend a bit of time flipping through the newspaper ads, pen in hand, marking our favorite things. Christmas is just around the corner, after all. We play games. We take naps. And, we remember. I remember Tyler’s first Thanksgiving. He was 7 months old and the life of the party. He most likely had his hands in everyone’s plate getting his first taste of the delicious goodness that is Thanksgiving dinner. I remember the laughter. Lots of laughter.

I remember where I was standing when I received a phone call from the hospital just a few days later. I remember the heaviness in the room when I arrived there. It was suffocating. I remember being told, “He didn’t make it.” It was SIDS.

He. Didn’t. Make. It. The reality of that moment hit me in a way I cannot begin to explain.

I remember walking back to a different room. My eyes landed on my lifeless baby boy and pain pierced me to the very core. It would become a familiar pain. I wept while I begged God to “fix it.”

I remember walking away from that hospital without my baby. I can tell you it was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

I remember losing a second child 15 months later. I remember my marriage falling apart. I remember being angry, confused, and feeling completely abandoned by God. The pain was relentless and I crumbled.

I also remember the moment I gave up and laid all the brokenness and pain at the feet of Jesus. I remember the moment He turned my mourning (YEARS of mourning) into joy.

And, I am so thankful.

I belong to a sovereign, perfect, faithful God. I am completely in awe of Him. He heals. He redeems. He restores. There is not one moment of my life when He has taken His eye off of me. (Or you!) He sees us. He loves us. Even in our darkest, most desperate moments. I know that now.

I know it.

So, don’t forget to remember. Remember who He is and what He has done. Remember the cross. Remember His lavish love and perfect grace. And in everything, give thanks...That can be a hard one to take in and live out until we remember Christ. Then suddenly even our most difficult moments pale in comparison to the pain and suffering He endured. For the glory of the Father and for us.