The Mourner’s Bill of Rights by Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D.

I remember feeling so very confused from all of the expectations I experienced after my husband died and then again when I lost my son. Some of those expectations were of my own making and others from people who had not walked the heartbreaking road of loss and debilitating grief.

It wasn’t until a wise older friend of mine said “Chrissy, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You need to focus your energy on just trying to survive right now.”

Those words were life giving to me. They helped release me from the guilt of feeling like I had to continue to be everything to everyone even though I was at a place where just taking the next breath was painful and exhausting. Little did I know my grief journey would have no end and I would have to continue to call upon that encouragement for many, many years after my son Christopher died.

I love the reminder that each of our grief journey’s, whether from the loss of a child, spouse, parent, etc., are unique to each of us. We share many commonalities in our grief journey but we have a right to walk through our grief in a way that is best for us.

The loss of my husband was different than the loss of my son. They are two distinct grief journey’s in my life.

The Mourner’s Bill of Rights by Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D., Dr. Wolfelt says:

“Though you should reach out to others as you do the work of mourning, you should not feel obligated to accept the unhelpful responses you may receive from some people. You are the one who is grieving, and as such, you have certain “rights” no one should try to take away from you. The following list is intended both to empower you to heal and to decide how others can and cannot help. This is not to discourage you from reaching out to others for help, but rather to assist you in distinguishing useful responses from hurtful ones.

1. You have the right to experience your own unique grief. No one else will grieve in exactly the same way you do. So, when you turn to others for help, don’t allow them to tell what you should or should not be feeling.

2. You have the right to talk about your grief. Talking about your grief will help you heal. Seek out others who will allow you to talk as much as you want, as often as you want, about your grief. If at times you don’t feel like talking, you also have the right to be silent.

3. You have the right to feel a multitude of emotions. Confusion, disorientation, fear, guilt and relief are just a few of the emotions you might feel as part of your grief journey. Others may try to tell you that feeling angry, for example, is wrong. Don’t take these judgmental responses to heart. Instead, find listeners who will accept your feelings without condition.

4. You have the right to be tolerant of your physical and emotional limits. Your feelings of loss and sadness will probably leave you feeling fatigued. Respect what your body and mind are telling you. Get daily rest. Eat balanced meals. And don’t allow others to push you into doing things you don’t feel ready to do.

5. You have the right to experience “grief bursts.” Sometimes, out of nowhere, a powerful surge of grief may overcome you. This can be frightening, but is normal and natural. Find someone who understands and will let you talk it out.

6. You have the right to make use of ritual. The funeral ritual does more than acknowledge the death of someone loved. It helps provide you with the support of caring people. More importantly, the funeral is a way for you to mourn. If others tell you the funeral or other healing rituals such as these are silly or unnecessary, don’t listen.

7. You have the right to embrace your spirituality. If faith is a part of your life, express it in ways that seem appropriate to you. Allow yourself to be around people who understand and support your religious beliefs. If you feel angry at God, find someone to talk with who won’t be critical of your feelings of hurt and abandonment.

8. You have the right to search for meaning. You may find yourself asking “Why did he or she die? Why this way? Why now?” Some of your questions may have answers, but some may not. And watch out for the clichéd responses some people may give you. Comments like “It was God’s will” or “Think of what you have to be thankful for” are not helpful and you do not have to accept them.

9. You have the right to treasure your memories. Memories are one of the best legacies that exist after the death of someone loved. You will always remember. Instead of ignoring your memories, find others with whom you can share them.

10. You have the right to move toward your grief and heal.Reconciling your grief will not happen quickly. Remember, grief is a process, not an event. Be patient and tolerant with yourself and avoid people who are impatient and intolerant with you. Neither you nor those around you must forget that the death of someone loved changes your life forever.”

I thought this was a beautiful reminder.

Much love,

Chrissy

These Dry Bones

These dry bones...
brittle, bleached, weathered

Do you ever feel like you walked into the valley of daily life and struggles and the heat feels as if it is burning your flesh off? The heat of hurt, rejection, fear, loneliness, job loss, financial burdens, broken marriage, loss of hope? Do you feel that if you don’t get relief soon you will just be a mere skeleton of yourself...all your flesh stripped off?

In Ezekiel, the people of Israel were crying out to God saying “our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off”. They too were feeling the heat and angst we experience in this broken world.

As Ezekiel walked through the valley of dry bones, the Lord said to the bones “I will make breath enter you and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am God.” Ezekiel prophesied as the Lord commanded and those bones came to life. God brought them out of their graves and breathed new life into them giving them hope for the future. His desire is to breathe life into our dry bones so that we may live a life worthy of His name and calling. He says “I will put my spirit in you and you will live, and I will settle in your land.” Not only does God say he will breathe his spirit into our life giving our tired and weary bones new life, he also promises to go before us to fight our battles. He reminds us that the battle is not ours.

As I write this, I too have had to cry out to God to breathe life into my own dry bones that have been scattered on the valley floor. Bones dried up by the loss of a spouse, the loss of my first born son, broken marriages, addiction, deception, loss of relationships, financial struggles, loss of hope. I have watched God breathe life into these areas of my life over and over again. I have watched him bring beauty from ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. He say we will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor. His desire is to breathe His life into you and into your family. Your struggles, your hurt, your pain, your dry bones.

Lay it down at the cross, I promise He won’t disappoint you.

Ezekiel 37:4-14
2 Chronicles 20:15-30
Jeremiah 29:11
Isaiah 61:3

Much love,

Chrissy

#embracingthemess 

My World Went Dark…

Today marks the 6th anniversary of the day my world went dark.  You would be 32 this year.  Your baby boy will turn 7 in ten days.

The day you were born was filled with hope and joy.  Hope for my future at the young age of 18 and hope for yours.  I held you, my first born baby, and immediately I knew I would never know another love like yours.  Just like I will never know another love like your brothers in the moment I held each one of them.  You settled me.  You became an extension of me.

So wise and so very funny.  You were the voice of reason for your brothers and I, and the voice of risks as well.  You lived life wide open.  You loved the unloved. You stood up for the bullied and stood in the ditch with the homeless.  Your love never saw race, religion, or gender.  Your love only looked at the heart.  You were fiercely loyal to your friends even if their selfishness prevented them from reciprocating.

My world went dark March 21, 2016.  I can feel the anxiety and panic in the air as it rises up in my body.  I vacillated between knowing something was terribly wrong and hope.  

It is as if that day is now in slow motion.  The ring of the phone. Confusion, panic, trying to call you, trying to call anyone who might know where you were. Running over to your house, beating on the door….a glimmer of hope when a friend said you checked into your class at school.

I stood in your yard as the officer pulled slowly through our gate and crept down the drive.  I held my breath.  The car door opened, the officer stepped out.  His mouth was moving, but all I could hear as I dropped to the ground was the eerie wails of a dying animal.  I did not realize the gutteral sound shattering the silence was my own.  The smell of dirt was powerful mixed with tears and snot.

Numb, unable to put a thought together or remember where I put my glasses, looking for my phone while I was talking on it, moving from one piece of furniture to another, lack of desire to live, anger, exhaustion, confusion, my yes’ always looking like good intentions with a cancelation on the end.

It was as if those joyful, sometimes sad, sometimes hard, sometimes not, pieces of our family collided with an oversized fat cat that jumped in the middle of the table and turned it over destroying our family puzzle and spilling it all over the floor.  The violence of the fall reverberated through every inch of my being.

I would wake in the morning praying it was all a bad dream, then I would see the pieces of that puzzle scattered all over the floor.  Debilitating pain would sear my body as my mind reminded my heart the puzzle would never be able to be put together again.  

I could not imagine that there would ever be another puzzle.  I knew the pieces that were left would never ever fill the space of the piece of you but I had no idea, even in grief, it would reshape itself.  Some pieces fell away and new pieces were added.

I ache to hold you.  My tears still spill unexpectedly.  The memories I was so scared I would lose after your death are in vivid color.  I can hear your laugh, your sarcasm, your disgust.  I can see you making faces back at yourself in every mirror you encounter.  I see you in your baby.  He is a Mimi and a Momma’s baby just like you were.  He loves to read, play games and fact checks me often. 

I never knew a heart could break and experience great joy all in the same space until you went home to be with Jesus. I desperately wish you were still here in the middle of all the moments, but I am not sure I would ask you to come back if I could, unless, of course, it was for Jackson and Lauryn’s sake.  I am positive if I did you would laugh that big ole laugh like I had lost my mind.

I know you're whole and living your best life in heaven.  I am thankful for the promise of heaven and that I will see you again.  

I miss you son.

In memory of the first son to ever hear my heartbeat.

Christopher Parrish Barrow

Love,

Mom

When Life Doesn't Feel Abundant

Yesterday, during my morning quiet time I found myself writing a love letter to God.  As I opened my journal this morning, this sentence jumped out at me.

“God, your word says you will pour out in abundance over me.”

It has been almost three and a half years in this season of our life, and it sure has not felt like abundance. It has felt more like deception and greed stacked on top of an earth-shattering journey of loss and grief.  Oh how deep the arrow penetrates the soul when the instigators of the hellish vortex you find yourself in comes cloaked in Christianity, friendship, and even those you love. No time to grieve as flaming arrows fly your way. Your bones ache and your heart is shredded. It lays at your feet in a bloody mess. You can only muster enough energy to take up the shield of faith. (Ephesians 6:16). Your words are replaced with groans as your knees buckle and the tears pour down your face.

This is not a bad position to be in because it forces us into full surrender and removes us from interfering in the battle. Like God told King Jehoshaphat, the battle is not yours, but God’s. (2 Chronicles 20:15) There is nothing like death that brings the full sovereignty of God into focus. The beauty of not having the energy to fight the battle and the beauty of full surrender is that it opens the flood gates of heaven, pouring forth an abundance of grace, hope, blessings and restoration. Sweet friend, I am in no way minimizing how painful this season is for you. I know it feels as if your are being branded with a hot iron on delicate parts of your flesh. I know the smell and stench makes your eyes and nose water. I know you feel like you there is no going forward. I know some of you frankly wish you too could die. I have been there. In many ways I am still there.

Does any of this sound like the season of life you may be waking through?  Loss, disappointment, deception, greed, disillusionment, depression? Do you see your lifeless body laying on the floor of your bathroom, slick with snot and wondering if you will very be able to get up again?  The vision of abundance not even in your bucket of hope. Those hope things buried in hurt.

There are so many areas of our life that Satan lays in wait to pounce in these seasons (1 Peter 5:8) and he will use those whose hearts are willing to carry out his destruction. We must stay prayed up and walking in the spirit so that we do not fall prey to the schemes of the devil and cause great hurt and destruction in other people’s lives. We must stay prayed up so that when the attack comes and we do not have the energy, our heart, mind and soul will be trained to take up our shield of faith. We are fighting against forces and authorities and against rulers of darkness and powers of the spiritual world. (Ephesians 6:12). 

Friends, I still don’t know from one day to the next if I have the strength to rise for the day or even for five minutes. I have days, even weeks I don’t get out of my pj’s unless it is absolutely necessary. I don’t have all the answers and I struggle daily to walk upright and in surrender especially when my river of hurt has washed me out to the depths of the seas and I am gasping for breath just to survive.

Abundance has not been at the forefront of my mind this season. My struggle to merely exist has been my focus. As God’s word is true, my story is living testimony to the fact that: We have walked through fire and water, but he has brought us to a place of abundance. (Psalm 66:12) What others intended for harm, he has used for his glory to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.  (Genesis 50:20) He has gone before us, he has never left us or forsaken us. (Deuteronomy 31:8). He has made a way in the sea, and a path in mighty waters.   He has brought forth new things and he continues to make a way in the wilderness and bring forth rivers in the desert. (Isaiah 43:16,19) He has preserved our life and kept our feet from slipping. (Psalm 66:9) He wants to do this for you too sweet friend. He sees you. He is working it all out for your good. Will you rest in that promise?

These pictures show merely a glimpse of the abundant blessings God has poured out on me and our family. These are the messes that fill my heart. These are the messes that make me realize that even in the hard times, God has chosen to bless us abundantly.  These are the messes that remind me of a God who is full of grace and desires the best for his children. These are the messes that have taught me to Embrace The Mess. I bet if you look closely in your own season of struggle you will find places that God has blessed you abundantly too, even in the in the midst of your mess.

With Love,

Chrissy

Sea Glass

Ron,

August 14, 2019 marked eight years since you went to be with Jesus. Wow! There has been so much life lived between your death and that anniversary. They say time marches on and I guess that is true, but a piece of my heart died that day too. How could it not? You were one of the most beautiful pieces of sea glass that God has ever blessed me with. An unexpected treasure revealed at a time when the ocean receded in my life to give me rest from its battering waves.

There is so much I want to tell you. There is so much I need to tell you. Since you died, I have learned to live with my head in heaven and my feet on the ground. It is not a bad prespective, just a very painful journey.
“Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.“ Colossians 3:1-2 This scripture seeped even deeper into my soul when Chris died. I am grateful for a deeper understanding of this scripture, I just wish it was not the loss of one of my babies that made it really come alive in my life. When one of your babies lives in heaven, there your thoughts and heart live also.

I still miss you. I still miss your laugh. I still miss your wisdom. You taught me that marriage could be good. Do you remember how many years I fought you on that? I could not believe that a man of your integrity, a man who never once let us down, existed, much less would love me so much he would be willing to love my boys as his own. Not to mention, you were so much older than I was, what could you possibly see in me? You were at a place in your life where you had raised your kid. You were beginning the years of enjoying your grandchildren and retirement. Why in the world would you want to take on me and a house full of young boys again? But you did and with great joy. I knew you were older than me, but by the time I realized how much, it was too late. You aged well my love. My heart was yours, but I still dug my heels in when it came to marriage and again when you asked me to quit my job so we had more time to spend together. It took a couple of years of dating to change my mind. A couple of years that you never wavered. A couple of years that you waited patiently for me to work through my trust issues and realize I could trust you. Thank you for never giving up on me. You always kept your word. You were always concerned about our well being and taking care of us. You wanted to show the boys and I the world. What wonderful memories we have from those adventures. Memories that will last a life-time.

Your unconditional love for us led me a little closer to the cross as you loved me as Christ loved the church. You probably would not understand or you would say you just did want a man is supposed to do, but your love for me and my boys strengthened my trust in Christ.

You continually worried about what would happen to us when it was your time to go. You did not want me to be alone. You wanted someone to love and cherish me the way you always did. Well, I found him. Actually, I think you found him for me. I remember you telling me what a great man he was. How you appreciated how he conducted his business with honesty and integrity. Lord knows, you could be a challenge to deal with when it came to business. After you died, I could not trust myself to choose wisely, but I knew I could trust you. So I took a chance, and I have to admit, unbeknownst to him, I vetted him among a few of your Delt Brothers. You would have been so proud of me. You loved your Delt Brothers more than your own life and I knew they would be honest with me and that they had my best interest at heart. They loved me because they loved you. Well, you were right and so were they. He is a really good man and he loves us well. I am humbled that God saw fit to bless me twice. That is what you would always say to me, but I never really understood it until I was forced to walk in your shoes.

Remember that saying you frequently used? "No good deed goes unpunished". I guess with your desire to give and love others well, you probably knew this better than most, but I just thought you were being a little cynical. Your personal success and your marriage to me was a breeding ground for others greed and selfishness. Unfortunately, the boys and I experienced a double knockout after Chris’ death. What a season of heart ache it has been. You would be as shocked as I was at some of the those that delivered the punches. Or maybe you wouldn’t have. You were always a really good read of people. You would be relieved and happy to know that even though you couldn’t protect us this time, God did. He knew and he loves us even more than you did, if you can imagine that. Not only that, but he gave us Blake who has stood firm beside us and held us up and together through it all.

You had such a heart for others. It was one of the many things I loved about you. I remember sitting in the Red Hut in Lake Tahoe and a lady introduced herself to me and told me how you helped her daughter get her degree at Trinity University in San Antonio. Her daughter had graduated and was teaching at the time in Mexico, paying it forward, Her mom told me she had been waitressing there for years and was a single mom (a stranger to you) and that if it had not been for you, she did not know how would have ever been able to send her daughter to college, much less Trinity. That is just one of the one hundred million examples of your generosity. I think I am aware of most, but I bet there are more out there I am not aware of.

You already know that Chris is in heaven now. I’m sure he was so happy to see you. He loved you and admired you so very much. He was set to graduate from Sam Houston in December of 2016 but we lost him in March of that year. I received a call from Dean Mitchell Muehsam after his death. Mitch has always been a great friend. He is such an upstanding, authentic man who fights hard for his students , Alumni and friends. He is a man you and I both greatly admire. He called to say he had been working on getting permission from the proper chain of authority to award Chris his Business degree posthumously. I remember falling to my knees in a puddle of gratitude tears. It would be the first posthumous degree awarded at Sam Houston State University. In May 2017, I received one of the greatest gifts I have ever, to this day, been given since Chris’ death. Chris’ memory was honored as I was walked the stage at Sam Houston State University and was presented with his diploma. The standing ovation when his name was called made my heart soar and shatter all in the same moment. Guess what else! This day fell on Mother’s Day. Can you imagine the emotions? The joy. The ache of my heart. I was so humbled by Mitch’s kindness and thoughtfulness. Mitch, President Dana Hoyt, The Board of The College of Business Administration and The Board of Regents will never know what this meant to my shredded mother’s heart. I don’t think I ever properly thanked them, but their gift of kindness will never be forgotten. Getting his degree was definitely a journey for Chris. You fought hard for him and showed up every single time to support him as he struggled through his young adult years. I remember you insisting on being taken to the court house when he had a court hearing. You were so sick, but you would not hear of not being there to support him. We loaded up the wheel chair and oxygen and headed to town. My heart sunk as the victims advocate shuffled you around the room with no regard for your struggle just to take your next breath, but she was determined to show her authority. You never complained. You never caused a scene. You were so good to him.

Chris’ baby is 4 now and he has many, many questions about his dad, heaven and death. Boy is he smart and wise. I’m not sure even you could answer some of this thought provoking questions without google. I can hear your laugh sometimes when he asks me a question because I know those questions would make you belly laugh. Since I lost my own dad at a very young age, I feel like God has given me some insight into the questions and struggles that will arise from the loss of his dad. Having seen Jesus face to face, I know you would be reminding me that the most important thing we can give him is Jesus so that he will see his dad again one day. Without Jesus, we both know, they will never meet again. That is a tough pill to swallow, but I am leaning in and standing firm on the promises of God. I know my grandchildren have been set aside and sanctified for the Kingdom of God. “For by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy.” Hebrews 10:14. I can’t wait until you get to meet them. Oh what joy!

You would be so proud of Stephen. You always were. He loved you like his own dad. It has been hard to see the void that was left in his life when you died. He watched your every move and learned so much from you. He wanted to be his own boss just like you and guess what!!! He made it!! He has a beautiful wife that you would absolutely adore and two beautiful children. His baby boy is so kind and his laugh is absolutely contagious. That little girl of his is a boldy. She is going to give her mommy and daddy a run for their money. No doubt you would get a kick out of that. She would have you wrapped around her finger in seconds. Stephen is an awesome dad and husband. Thank you for leading us by example. I know you would expect nothing less from him.

Dylan is FINALLY thriving. Remember that little pain in the butt kid that was determined to just be a mouthy brat to you sometimes. I know you would be telling me “I told you he would come around in time.” Then you would launch into the memories of Rocky’s mouth and his mullet hair cut and remind me that he turned out to be a fabulous man and Dylan would too. You would be extremely proud of Dylan. He has a great job he loves and is definitely a natural salesman and people person. Your death shook him to his core, it shook all of us to the core, and it has taken a very long time for him to come to grips with it, but I see growth from the pain. By the grace of God. Unfortunately, before any of us had time to process it all, we lost Chris.

When I remarried, I inherited another fabulous Daughter In Love, Son and Daughter plus a few more grands. My heart is FULL. I am looking forward to more grand babies in the future. God’s word says “Grandchildren are the crowning glory of the aged”. Proverbs 17:6. The stones in my crown look like shimmering sea glass. A beautiful reflection of the son.

These things I shared today with you are just a glimpse of all the radiant sea glass God revealed when the waves of sorrow and loss crashed over our head and swept our lives and hearts out to sea. These eight years have been a raging sea. The waves just never seems to get any smaller or less fierce. The beauty has been that as the sand has shifted under our feet and life has felt so raw, the sting of the salt water searing, God has used those waves to remove some oil slicks from our lives. He has removed pieces of plastic that presented themselves as glass. He has used those waves to polish up the sea glass he had already placed in our lives and he has used those waves to reveal new sea glass in our lives. God uses the wind, waves and sand in our life to bring beauty from our broken glass. When I think of sea glass with the sun sparkling off of it, I think of the beautiful colors of all the precious stones in heaven. I think of you. I think of Chris.

Until we meet again…

Love,

Blue Eyes

90 Seconds and a Wig Adjustment

Don’t you wish that is all it took…90 seconds and a wig adjustment to get our life together? Throw in a tube of super glue so we can attempt to glue some of those broken pieces back together and we could show up at the Oscar’s and win all the awards for having our life together. Always the princess captivated and protected by her prince who wards off all that could shatter our world.

That might win us best actress, but is it your reality?

I wish I could tell you that this fairy tale is in more than cinematic color. I wish I could tell you that you have not been shattered by the loss of someone you love deeply, betrayed by those you trusted, encountered unmet expectations, lost your job, struggled to keep your broken marriage together, received a devastating medical loss or walked the road of addiction with a loved one. I wish I could tell you it was a dream and when the credits run you are going to go back to that life you left at the theater doors.

That just is not my reality and probably not your reality either.

So I spin…I spin as tears roll down my face and sweat puddles on the floor. I spin as I wonder if I will make it through the day. I spin as I wonder if this heart will ever mend. I spin hoping I can get my life together in those 90 seconds.

As I envision myself crossing the finish line at the gate of heaven, the Holy Spirit whispers hope in my ear. I am reminded that just like that hill climb that tears down the muscles in my body so they can be built back up stronger with more endurance, God is using my broken, shattered life to build me up stronger and with more endurance to run the race he has set before me. Hebrews 12:1-2

Our shattered heart and shattered lives bring us to a place of surrender that nothing else can. “We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about the troubles we experienced in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead.” 2 Corinthians 1:8-9.

I can say this with assurance, as I have walked the road of hurt you are experiencing and in so many areas of my life, I am still walking this road. I can wail, weep and pray with you at the gravesite of your child, husband, extended family member or friend. I can sit with you in your unmet expectations, loss of hope, loss of relationships, wayward children. I can feel your anguish and confusion as you cry out to God when you are betrayed by those you love.

I can also stand tall in that puddle of my own tears and sweat and declare that God WILL bring glory from your suffering and deep hurt. I encourage you to stand firm in faith and God’s truths even when (especially when) all you can see are the boulders in front of you on that mountain. When your legs and lungs burn and you don’t think you can take one more step. “God will strengthen you with his own great power so that you will not give up when troubles come..” Colossians 1:11

So get up off that couch sister and spin! Spin all those truths of God into your heart and climb while the tears roll down your face. Climb higher even when you don’t think you will ever catch your breath again. Drop those tears and sweat at the feet of Jesus and let him restore your heart to joy. Let him mend your broken heart and dreams. Spin even when you know it will take much longer than 90 seconds to get your life together and adjust your wig. For “He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” Revelations 21:5

Violent/Broken/Bloodied/Bruised/Restored

Violent/Broken/Bloodied/Bruised/Restored

“Your son is dead. We think he may have swerved to miss a deer and lost control”.  Collapse, shock, saltwater waves pouring over my head sucking me under, burning my lungs, stinging my eyes. I want to reach out to comfort others around me that are feeling the impact but I can feel nothing, hear nothing. Paralysis. His natural body lay in an open field as the angels escorted his soul to heaven. He is finally whole for all eternity. Never to be bloodied, broken or bruised again (physically or emotionally). Christopher Parrish Barrow, age 25, experienced physical death in that moment. My first born son. 

If you have never experienced the death of a child, you will never fully understand the paralyzing pain of the loss. I am not minimizing the pain of loss of other loved ones. Unfortunately, I have also experienced the pain of the loss of my earthly father, a spouse, my grandparents and dear friends. Yet, in my personal experience, nothing compares to the loss of my child. 

There is no relief from the weight of grief. That beautiful child I carried in my womb. The beat of my heart, the first sound that he heard. The boy that taught me about unconditional love, sacrifice, selflessness. A 3 year old that asked “Mommy how can Jesus live in your heart?  There are too many bones in there.”.  My sinner/saint. Aren’t we all? A young man who chose spiritual life through his savior Jesus Christ. The man that was drawn to the lonely, who poured his life into “the least of these”.  A young man I watched take his first drink in college, struggle with alcoholism, struggle to find his calling in life, his choice of friends and denial by some family, that bred death instead of life, unequally yolked relationships, engaged to be married, a new baby. So much joy, fear, anxiety, hope. Son/Brother/Fiancé/Daddy/Provider.  A man after God’s own heart.

The pain and suffering of watching him make destructive choices I could not change nor control was almost unbearable yet it was just a glimpse into the pain that was to come. I am so very grateful that God gave me eyes to see and the wisdom and knowledge to get him help, but it did not mitigate the hurt and destruction his addiction was causing me and others who were intimately engaged, eyes wide open, trying to help him in his struggle and trying to love him through it. Having a front row seat to my son’s alcoholism/addiction also gave me a front row seat to God’s power and provision. I witnessed God’s grace in action and the nudge of the Holy Spirit in Christopher’s life. It blossomed and bloomed into a beautiful testimony. It strengthened his desire to show Jesus to his new son. To exemplify the characteristics of a Godly father and husband to his future wife and son. How he honored me as his mother, a bond so deep and unique no deception, deceit, or self-serving lies could destroy it. How he counseled and loved his brothers and friends. 

Sleepless nights of worry. Where is he? What is he doing? Who is he hanging out with? What is his emotional and physical state? Has he relapsed? Will I get that call? Will he hurt himself or someone else?  How would his consequences affect his future, his sons future, his soon to be wife’s future? I’m just not sure how much more I can take.

I’m going to boldy jump out there at the risk of criticism and judgment and share something most parents that have walked the road of addiction with their children are so very ashamed to express. I pray my raw honesty will bring spiritual freedom and healing for those that need to know they are not alone. Sadly, as with many parents who are struggling with a child who is battling addiction, there is a momentary relief from worry and relief that your child no longer has to suffer through addiction in those finite moments of hearing the proclamation of death....followed by a profound sense of guilt in feeling that fleeting moment of relief.  I knew Chris was safe and with Jesus. Little did I know that worry would turn into sleepless nights of agony and loss for over many years. Loss of hopes and dreams for his future. Loss of hopes and dreams for his son. Loss of a brother. Loss of a friend. Loss of relationships. Loss of my desire to live.

ACHE, HEAVY, OPPRESSIVE. An elephant sitting on on my chest. One more wave... will I catch my breath??  At least his presence on earth provided this mother’s heart some hope. A heart that was 100% confident that God would bring glory and restoration as He used Chris for His kingdom. As most parents, I whole heartedly believed that my sons life would impact the world for the better. As a Christian mother, I whole heartedly believed my child would find his purpose and flourish in service for the Kingdom of God in life. Never had I considered Chris’ impact could or would happen after his physical death. Seven or more who were saved at his funeral not to mention countless others since then. The glory and assurance of life after death.

I admire the parent who intentionally orchestrated his son’s death to bring life. Many days I feel sorry for myself and wallow in my self-pity. On days like that I have to remind myself about the story of the father who had a perfect son. Blameless, obedient, grounded in his purpose for the Kingdom of God. He was a joy to his mother and father, never bringing heartache or worry as he walked this earth in his physical body. He discipled others, taught and mirrored unconditional love, healed the sick and broke all the rules to bring hope, love and life to “the least of these”.  The son’s father saw how broken the world was and he made a decision. He chose his son to be the sacrificed for our sins, our stupidity, our pride, our addictions, our selfishness, our blatant disobedience. He poured out his life on earth but more importantly he poured out his life in death for me and for you. 

Let’s be real. There is absolutely NO way I would willingly sacrifice my children for anyone else’s baggage/sin. I’m ashamed to say, I feel pretty sure I would look around and say “God, surely there is someone else’s son who could be sacrificed. I know he has screwed up, I know he makes dumb decisions, but I am not sacrificing him for you or anyone. Oh, and don’t forget he is fallen because of a choice Adam and Eve made in the garden, and you are the one who created them.”  God could have said “hey, my son is blameless. He has healed, restored, fought his enemies valiantly for my kingdom and loved his neighbors. He has obeyed my commands. I’m not giving him up for your stupidity and brokenness. In fact, I think I will just let all of you suffer the consequences of hell based on Adam and Eve’s choice.”

Do you see the connection?  Do you see the difference? 

Blameless...and then..

Violent/Broken/Bloodied/Bruised

God looked at Chris, he looked at you and me and said “I love you”. In spite of your choices, addiction, brokenness, disobedience. I love you so much I am going to sacrifice my only son for you. He will be shamed, ridiculed, beaten, and hung on the cross for you. His mother and I will watch and grieve. I will endure the pain of my child being stripped, beaten, accused for your stupid choices. His flesh will hang from his body, nails will be driven through his hands and feet crushing his bones. His blood will spill out on the earth. I will send my perfect son to suffer for your imperfections.  Think about how his father felt knowing he would have to experience the death of his child to bring life to you and me. 

God raised his precious son from the grave to sit at the right hand of God the Father just as he promised. A father who endured the pain of a parent who has lost a child. He sent and watched his son die and then rise from the grave to join him for all eternity. A father, our father, who knows the pain and the ache intimately of losing a child. He also knows the overwhelming joy of being reunited with his son when he rose from the grave to reign in all of heaven and earth for eternity. 

Just like my broken, bloodied, bruised child, Christ died physically but is alive spiritually for all eternity. Those who are saved will only experience physical death. Those who are not will experience physical death, spiritual death and a second death of hell for all eternity. This mother’s heart thinks of the violent wreck, my sons broken physical body and his restoration to glory. No more tears, no more pain. Worshiping at the feet of Jesus.  I walk through this life anxiously awaiting my reunion with him never to be separated again. Chris was saved by grace, received by the angels in death and is worshiping at the feet of The Almighty. In this there is hope even as I battle the waves of paralyzing grief. 

Lord, let me and others that have experienced loss or the struggle of addiction, remember that you know our pain and struggles intimately. That you love us more than we can imagine. That we are to walk daily in your love sharing it with others that are broken just like we are. Bringing hope to those that feel so alone. Lord I lift other parents up to you who have lost their children. Bring them peace that passes understand knowing that they are not alone, that the God of the universe intimately understands their hurt and pain. May they give themselves a lot of grace through their journey of grief. 

#embracingthemess  #addiction #lossofason

Wherever You Go.....There You Are

“Wherever you go, there you are.”

I am a “runner”...not in the literal, feet pounding the pavement sense.  Lord, no!  My self-destruction path does not look like sweating to the oldies, mid-summer, in the Texas heat.  The mere thought of sweat running down my neck and collecting in undesirable places makes me want to eat a half gallon of bluebell ice cream.  

My “running” looks much like a first class ticket to anywhere, a six-week drive across country, a cruise on the open seas.  My loss overwhelming and my desire to stop the excruciating pain set my feet and heart in motion. When my “running” began, a dear friend and mentor said to me “just remember my friend....wherever you go, there you are”.  Inwardly I’m thinking “really, I sure was hoping to “run” and not find all of my baggage waiting for me at the finish line”.

The reality is, my baggage: the hurt, pain, and loss are not cured by my “running”.  For me, it has been a form of self-preservation.  When I can’t handle the hurt, if I run, I can pretend there is no hurt.  I can pretend that Chris will be home to welcome me when I return. I can pretend that his death has been a horrible nightmare.  I trick my mind and heart into believing he is not gone.  I breathe in for a moment. 

My “running” started with the loss of my husband.  I ran like hell in search of peace and understanding. When my son Chris died my “running” was magnified and in my self-destructive state, I find myself not even caring sometimes if it leads me to financial ruin.  I just want the pain to stop.  My adventures keep my mind and body busy.  They make me feel like I am “running” toward healing every time I “run”.  If I am real about the situation, I have a tendency to “run” from God when I am hurt as well as run from reality.

I guess I should be super grateful God has not sent a whale to swallow me up in order to get my attention and remind me that I am His.  I’m not sure I would feel very grateful in the belly of a whale.  Talk about refocusing your mind and heart.  Fish guts, stomach bile and, Oh Lord, the smell!!  I’m sure Jonah’s situation did not look like those childhood bible story pictures depicting his story.  I feel like the situation would be a horror movie.  

Jonah was a “runner” too. He was running from God and God’s desire and purpose for his life.  In so many ways as I run from the pain, I, like Jonah, run from God.  I run...

•     Angry at God: questioning how a loving God could take my child leaving my grandson without a father.
•     Hopeless: wondering if God sees me or hears me?  Will the pain ever end?
• Loneliness

I often turn inward to self instead of outward to God. 

In spite of Jonah’s predicament, he still believed in God’s character. He knew he had been disobedient but he also knew God to be a God full of mercy, love, and grace. “In my distress, I called to the Lord, and he answered me.  From deep in the realm of the dead, I called for help, and you listened to my cry.” Jonah 2:2. “But you Lord brought me up from the pit”.  Jonah 2:6

I am running again today as I write this.  My head knows God is faithful and will bring healing, but my heart, shattered into a million pieces, is not sure.  I know when I land in Alaska “there I will be”.  The hurt, pain, anger, depression, joy, and gratefulness packed neatly in my carry-on ready to be unpacked.  I will once again be praying that for this short time I can redirect my head and my heart to see the beauty of God’s creation and His power, grace, and mercy. I will again pray that this is the trip that will help me start to heal.

Are you a runner?  Do you, like me, hop a plane, train or automobile going anywhere, trying to outrun the pain only to find out “Wherever you go, there you are?”  Are you running from God out of anger and hurt? I believe that all of us have times in our life that we run.  I am having to intentionally practice running to God with my pain and disappointments instead of running to self-destruction and self-pity.  I know that part of that is due to the loss of my child, but I also recognize that part of that is due to my “daddy” issues (stay tuned😉).  You would think as a Christian running toward God should be a no-brainer but my sinful humanness often runs a hundred miles an hour away from God.  It makes no sense, I know, but for me, I have to accept it as my reality as God continues His work in me.

Since Chris died, I find it much easier to throw the hurt and blame at God and use it as an excuse to keep him at a distance rather than stand on His promises that He loves us, He does care, and we are not alone.

My desire is that my “wherever you go” and your “wherever you go” would always be into the shelter of the Almighty and my “there you are” and your “there you are” would follow.  God wants us to “run” to Him, not self-destruction and self-pity.

Father, I lift up those that are walking through this season of life crippled by hurt, despair, loss, and loneliness. As a child of yours, I still question “why me God?”, “will the pain ever end?”, will my grief destroy me?”  I know there are others walking the same journey.  Please let them know they are not alone and that they are heard.  Remind them that God’s plan is to prosper them, not harm them.  Please, Father, whisper to their hearts as you do mine. Let them know that when the waves roll in, and they feel they are drowning you are still God and you ARE good.

#embracingthemess

#princesswarrior

#princesswarriorrunningclub

#daughteroftheKing