Posted in Uncategorized, tagged art, death, God, grief, grieving, healing, hope, Jesus Christ, loss, mourning, pain, sorrow, suicide, trauma, traumatic, traumatic loss, visual arts on June 4, 2015| 2 Comments »
“It’s time,” I said to my husband as we sat together a few weeks ago, talking about the ways grief has touched EVERY part of our lives.
“Time for what?” he responded.
“It’s time for you to film my grief story. So many people are suffering the agony of traumatic loss like we did when my brother took his life. We have to do something to let others know there is help and hope. Will you do that with me?”
So, here it is. If you or someone you love has been touched by traumatic loss…Posted in Uncategorized, tagged death, God, grief, grieving, loss, love, mourning, sadness, sorrow, suicide on December 20, 2013| 14 Comments »
“Excuse me, Miss. I’m curious about what you’re doing there.” The old man motioned toward the sand as he spoke.
“Is this something personal, or artistic?”
I didn’t realize anyone had been watching me carve the sand with my toes—camera in hand—so I was somewhat startled by his question.
“Both,” I suppose.
“I lost my little brother two years ago today so that makes it personal. And, it’s artistic because I created a blog in his memory. When I leave here, I’ll post these photographs and try to write about my experience.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” His eyes were kind as he respectfully tipped his worn denim hat toward me. I couldn’t help but notice his thin frame and knobby knees.
“Thank you.” I responded, looking into the old man’s eyes.
My answer startled both of us. Having been asked that question numerous times over the last two years, I’ve always used the phrase, “Jay took his life,” when responding. Somehow saying it that way felt less…intense. It also seemed to soften the blow and minimize the discomfort for the person who asked and for me. That question never gets any easier to answer. While I jump at the chance to talk about my loss as most grieving people do, the suicide factor always pierces my heart clean through.
“I’m so sorry.”
The old man’s sincerity was rather refreshing.
“Thank you for wanting to know.” I said. “Most people don’t, or at least they won’t risk asking.”
“Well, it’s beautiful what you’re doing there…for your brother,” he said. “Really beautiful.”
“This is the best part,” I explained. “Watch what happens next.”
We watched as the tide came in, bringing the magenta-colored daisies with it.
A few minutes later, a woman who was walking along the shoreline began plucking up each one of the daises from the sand and surf.
Soon she cradled the entire bouquet.
I could tell the man was concerned about her picking up the very same flowers I had so tearfully released into the sea.
“It’s alright,” I said, responding to his worry before he had the chance to admit it.
“Every time I release flowers in Jay’s memory, I sit back and watch them for a while. Eventually, the tide brings them back and someone comes by to gather them up with wonder, as if the ocean has handed them a miracle. The last time I did it, a little blonde girl ran along the sand and presented her mother with an ocean-bouquet. I watched as she pointed to the flowers and then out to the waves, trying to explain to her mother where the flowers came from.”
“As I release the flowers, I guess I release my brother all over again. Each petal represents a memory that I treasure. And somehow, God gives Jay back to me. God allows Jay’s memory to be a thing of beauty for someone else who never even knew him.”
We sat there for about fifteen minutes talking about life and loss and God before the old man finally stood up, dusted the sand off his cargo shorts, and reached out to shake my hand.
“Bless you,” I said, as he turned and walked away.
Just before I gathered up my things to vacate my sacred spot, a single magenta daisy caught my eye.
I coddled it gently, as if I was cupping Jay’s face right there in my hands.
You see, that’s the funny thing about grief. The more you let go, the more God gives you back. I know that’s not some new earth-shattering lesson or anything. It’s been a part of God’s economy from the get-go. Jesus Himself said, “Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 10:39).
But the difference is that now, I know this truth.
I know it because I’ve lived it.
As a fellow survivor so poignantly put it,
“I realized he never really left.”
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged death, dying, God, grief, grieving, Lord, loss, mourn, mourning, pilgrimage, Psalm 84, Valley of Baca, Valley of Weeping, weep, weeping on May 13, 2013| 4 Comments »
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Apostle Paul, death, God, grief, grieving, lament, loss, mourn, mourning, seeds, stewardship, suffer, suffering, suicide, weep, weeping on May 7, 2013| 4 Comments »
My journal from January, 2012 contains only two entries. The first is a black “X” across the entire page along with one sentence that reads, “Everything—life as we knew it—changed forever.” The second entry simply says, “I can’t write.”
In the days following my brother’s suicide, grief paralyzed me in body and soul. I’ve come to the conclusion that there are two kinds of pain in life: The pain of being outside God’s will, and the pain of being inside God’s will. Having experienced both, I’ve always said I’d take the latter any day. But after Jay took his life, I was tempted to rethink my preferences.
Someone once said, “Grief is life’s greatest teacher.” I’m not far enough into the journey to pass judgment. When a wound is gaping wide, you don’t care about learning anything. Grief burns a hole through the center of your chest and, frankly, most mourners just want to pick a different teacher.
My friend, Micki Ann, understands suffering because she has suffered. She says, “Suffering is a seed we are given to steward.” Several months after Jay’s death, Micki Ann gave me a handful of seeds. Even though there were days when I wanted to throw them back at her, I couldn’t deny the fact that her wisdom invited intrigue to inhabit my despair.
In an effort to prove my friend’s theory, I searched the scriptures.
It didn’t take long to realize that the Apostle Paul had a real knack for stewarding his suffering. Stonings? Shipwrecks? Paul went through the wringer. That’s what makes him so credible. Given his ordeals, on many nights, Paul’s words stopped my self-pity in its tracks. “Our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all” (2 Corinthians 4:17 NIV).
I believe Paul. I really do.
When I used to write essays, articles, or blog posts, I would conclude my thoughts with some neat and tidy resolution.
There is no closure, especially with death by suicide. Instead, there are only endless questions that will never be answered.
Grief makes a writer ramble, but I should at least be woman enough to confess what I can’t gloss over…
The temptation to shrink back from my sorrow and suffering is immense. But, there’s no evidence that grief’s purpose is to make us give up.
Paul never backed off from God’s mission. Actually, the opposite is true. It was Paul’s pain that propelled God’s purpose, and he knew it. “Now I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has actually served to advance the gospel” (Philippians 1:12 NIV, emphasis added).
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged blog, death, God, grace, grief, grieving, Jesus, loss, lovely, mourn, mourning, pain, trauma on August 29, 2012| 6 Comments »
I never wanted to have a blog about grief and loss. I suppose no one does. Those who have stumbled along the rocky road of traumatic loss understand how a little grace unfolding amidst the searing pain is a very, very big thing. Thank you, Jackie of www.swervingforbutterflies.com for being grace’s deliverer by nominating For Those Who Weep by a “Lovely Blog Award.”
On most days, grief feels anything but lovely. Today, Jackie changed that. Thank you, dear one. No doubt you are a kind and beautiful soul. Butterflies should swerve for you.
I’m not good at following rules, but I will gladly do so here in order to accept this humble honor = linking this post back to the blogger who nominated me with thanks, listing 7 things about myself, recommending 15 other blogs for this award, informing them of their nomination, and posting the above logo on my blog.
1. I hate disclosing stuff about myself.
2. I am in love with God…a sacred Romance like no other.
3. I miss my little brother every. single. day.
4. There is nothing better than being barefoot.
5. I will sit for hours to refine a photograph.
6. My yet unfulfilled dream – a publishing contract.
7. My 7 nieces and nephews are rare and priceless treasures.
http://onewomansperspective02.wordpress.com/
http://www.griefreflection.com/
http://www.widowschristianplace.com
http://www.thegriefexperience.wordpress.com
http://www.teamemmett.com/blog
http://www.thinkingaboutsuicide.com
http://www.holdingourhope.blogspot.com
http://www.mymauloa.blogspot.com
http://www.ourprecioushope.blogspot.com
http://www.brightmomentsduringdarktimes.blogspot.com
http://www.hopesjourneyblog.blogspot.com
http://www.blessedbycreativejoy.blogspot.com
http://www.avazoeg.blogspot.com
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Christ, death, endurance, establish, God, grief, grieving, Jesus, mourn, mourning, patience, perfect, sorrow, strengthen, suffering on August 23, 2012| 2 Comments »
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ashes, beauty, Christ, death, God, grief, grieving, hope, loss, mourning, weep, weeping on July 4, 2012| Leave a Comment »
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, Christ, death, God, grief, grieving, hope, loss, love, mourning on July 4, 2012| Leave a Comment »
I wish the sun would stop setting.
If, even for just a moment, God would stop it from going down…
But, the sun will set…
And, tomorrow’s ache will come long before I’ve dealt with today’s.
“Certainly the faithful love of the Lord hasn’t ended; certainly God’s compassion isn’t through! They are renewed every morning.” Lamentations 3:22-23a
for those who weep 