When my husband, Dave, graduated from college with a Computer Science degree, he wanted to get a job in the area and not relocate. The only job offered to him locally, after several months of searching, was with a non-profit organization. The pay was miserably low and it was difficult to make ends meet. However, the employer made up for it in insurance benefits, which at the time was not a big deal to us. But God knew that within the next few months we would need those benefits. That was when Becca (who was only three years old at the time) was diagnosed with cancer, had her leg amputated, and went through nine months of chemotherapy.

During that time her medical bills were easily in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, but we only had to pay less than $1000 of the medical costs. When we look back, the job God provided that did not seem like it was meeting our needs, turned out to be exactly what we needed with incredibly good insurance, which far outweighed our need for better finances.

Each time a terrible event happens in our lives, we can get upset at God, even angry, wanting to know why He allowed it. But for many of us, as we continue on and are able to look back, often we can actually see God’s hand was in it. We may not have been able to see Him at work in the middle of the crisis, but now that we are further down the road, we can connect the dots and see how God used that situation to bring direction we might not have even known we needed at the time.

So in other words, when we are questioning, “God, why did you let this happen to me?” His answer could very well be, “I didn’t let it happen to you. I let it happen for you.”

As a grieving parent, you may be thinking at this point, “There is no way I can read this and have Laura tell me the death of my child was something God did for me.”  And I am not about to say that!

I have been in that place of suffocating darkness myself after the death of our daughter, and have told God to just kill me now and take me off this earth. I am not going to tell you that God allowed your child to leave this earth as something good He did for you.

However, we need to realize that the death of our children did not blindside God. He knows what we cannot possibly know. He can see what we cannot see.

Our lives will never be the same. We will never be the same. But within that, we can allow the death of our child not to be wasted. We can allow God’s love to wash over us, to heal us, and to take the change in us and use it against the enemy who brought death into this world.

Although it hurts so much we just want to die and go to be with our child, the fact is, our child is safe in the Father’s arms. (If this is something you question, or that torments you, click here to be sent chapter eight “Looking Out the Window of Fear” from my book When Tragedy Strikes: Rebuilding Your Life with Hope and Healing After the Death of Your Child, which talks about this.) Plus, our child does not have to face the pain and tragedies this world puts us through.

When we think of our loss, our pain can make it hard to even breathe at times. But when we think of our child’s gain, it lifts some of that suffocating darkness, and allows us to see a glimmer of hope and even the possibility that maybe God isn’t as cruel as we thought He was, and that it is possible to believe we can live again and actually even find happiness while finishing our time on this earth.

God did not do this to you. Yes, for some reason (which we may never know this side of eternity) He allowed the death of your child and my child.

And He does have something for each of us.

• God has light and life that penetrates and shatters the suffocating darkness and intense pain.
• He has a peace for each of us that goes beyond anything we can understand. This peace causes us to delight in His mercy and grace in our lives within the horrible earthly loss.
• God has a plan for every single one of us. It is a plan that has blessings for you (and me) that we don’t even know about yet.

No, God did not do this to you. Once you can believe this truth, you will be well on your way to receiving the light, life, peace and blessings God has for you beyond the darkness and pain.

Expressions of Hope is written by author and speaker Laura Diehl to bring hope, light and life to bereaved parents. If you would like more information about Laura as an author or speaker click here.

Do you know someone who has lost a child? Are you surprised at how much they are struggling during the holidays, especially if it has been over a year since their loss?

As someone who has experienced this deep loss, please allow me to shed some light on this for you.

There are so many memories attached to the holidays, especially based around our own personal and family traditions. These can be triggers over and over again as in-our-face reminders that our child is no longer here on earth and will never again be part of these traditions. Our memories with that child are now all we have, and there will never be another opportunity to create new holiday memories with that child, which is so very wrong, and so very painful.

Things like Christmas shopping can be almost impossible, as we are constantly bombarded with gift ideas that make us think of our child for whom we will never be able to buy another gift.

Some family gatherings will probably be unattended, as it is impossible to watch the other children (young children, teens or adult children) and not to be immersed in the painful emptiness of our child who is missing and who will never again be joining in the laughter, festivities and seeing the growth and changes from year-to-year like everyone else is with their children.

But we are not just thinking of ourselves. We would rather stay home and allow our loved ones to celebrate without the presence of our grief dampening the joyous time for everyone else, as we have learned it is our job to make everyone around us comfortable with our grief (which can be very draining).

As a parent who is on this path, I would like to offer you three suggestions on how to help the pareavor in your life during the holidays, which can be very difficult, no matter how long ago that loss happened.

1. Give them lots of space and lots of grace

Losing a child can be compared to having an amputation. Part of our very being has been cut off from us.

The daughter we lost, Becca, had her left leg amputated when she was only three years old, so we had a front row seat to what it was like to live with an amputation. (You can read about her story here.) There are so many things one doesn’t think about unless you have been in that position, such as what size shoe do you buy when one foot grows and the other does not (until she gets her new yearly-made leg to keep up with her growth)? Every morning she had to decide if she was going to put on her leg as she got out of bed, or if she was going to hop around on one leg for a while. (Yes, she had a little walker when she was young and then crutches, but she rarely used them unless she was unable to wear her leg for some reason.)

The same is true for parents who have lost a child. There are so many things that come at us as daily reminders of our child who is no longer here, whether we want them to or not. We are constantly navigating through what is normal day-to-day life for everyone else, but are grief triggers for us.

It will also be helpful for you to know that for most bereaved parents, the second year is worse than the first. This is because the fog of grief has lifted and the weight of the loss hits us full force.  The third year and beyond is when we begin the journey of figuring out how to live with our child being amputated from us, and for most of us it takes a few years to figure that out. I am five years into this journey, and pareavors who have been on this road for twenty or thirty years will tell me it is still fresh for me and that I am still in the early stages.

2. Find a way to honor or remember their child

Since memories are all we have now, anything that helps us remember and honor that memory and life are very precious to us. Some suggestions are:

• Have a tree ornament made with that child’s name, picture, or something significant
• Have one of the child’s shirts made into a stuffed bear
• Give a gift in their child’s name.
  • A donation could be made to a charity associated with something about the child no longer here
  • A group/family could put their money together for something that would be seen by the public, such as a park bench
  • Make a donation through an organization like Compassion International, such as purchasing a goat for a needy family in another country
• Place a memorial brick in a memory garden or memory wall in your community
• Have a piece of jewelry made that has the child’s name engraved on it
• Have a blanket made with a favorite photo of their child

You can easily do an internet search to find places that will do these things for you, or you could search for more ideas.

3. Don’t just talk about them, but pray for them

It is very easy to sit around and talk about us with others; about how we are still such a mess and it has been over six months (or two years or eight years…), how we never go out any more, wondering when we will be back to normal, about the weird things we do now, and on and on it goes.

That really doesn’t help us. In fact, that could be considered gossip, and adds to the way people tip-toe around us and even say these hurtful things directly to us.

When we come to mind, or come into a conversation, pray for us. We are very, very broken, and need to be held up before the Lord in our woundedness. Only God can heal a broken heart, so help that healing by bringing us before Him often, not just a week, a month, or a year down the road, but for the rest of our lives when you think of us.

I would like to add one more thought here. Many people are concerned about saying the wrong thing; something that will actually sting a parent who has lost a child instead of comfort them. If you are one of those people, I have put together a list of bad things to say, and a list of helpful things. You can find the list here.

Let me close by saying thank you. Thank you for wanting to help someone close to you during the holidays. Thank you for being someone who doesn’t just get frustrated with us grieving parents and turn away, leaving us in more painful isolation. Thank you for not just saying that you care, but for actually going out of your way to take the time to read this, finding out what you can do, and acting on it.

May God richly bless you, as you bless and serve with love the one you know who has lost a child from this earth.

Laura Diehl is an award-winning author, national speaker and singer. She and her husband, Dave, are the founders of Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope). Dave and Laura travel full time in their Hope Mobile (a 38-foot motor home) to be more easily available for speaking and ministry requests.

If you would like to receive monthly updates on their travel adventures click here and submit your name and email at the bottom of the page. 

If you would like more information about Laura as an author or speaker click here.

We are just a few days away from the five year anniversary of the death of my daughter, Becca. Like the rest of you, the first year was so very painful. The second year was shockingly worse, as if that were even possible! The third year was still painful, but the reality of having to learn who I was without my oldest child was setting in. Last year I did “okay,” but this five-year-thing has me very fragile.

What is it that makes this so hard? Is it because five years seems such a long time? Is it because buried somewhere deep within me I know this is just the beginning? Is it because I have tried for the last three years to make sure my other children don’t think I loved Becca more than them, so when at home I do my best to pretend I am fine 95% of the time? Is it because my previous son-in-law took down her Facebook page saying five years was long enough and we need to move on (like he has with a new wife and son) so now I can no longer visit her there?

Or is the real reason the simple fact that I gave birth to her, raised her for 18 years, had her for one of my best friends for the next 11 years, and then in one moment’s time it was all taken away from me, and it just plain hurts, no matter how long it has been since she left us?

I find myself crying out to God at how desperately I still need Him for this grief I still struggle with. And what comes to me in the quietness of my soul is that a change in perspective can be very powerful.

Here are some of the things God reminds me of that can ease my pain, and make life livable again.

1. I am not getting further away from Becca with each year. I am getting closer to her, as each day brings me closer to my own departure to be with her again.
2. It’s only stuff. Yes, it is Becca’s stuff that I no longer have access to on Facebook, but no one can take away the part of her that lives forever in my heart, my mind, my memories… my very soul!
3. While 29 years was not enough, it WAS! It happened! I was blessed with this daughter who brought so much joy (and many challenges with her stubbornness) to my life. I can finally say I would rather have had her for only 29 years than to not have had her at all.

I still cry, I still hurt (sometimes very deeply), but I also rejoice that this life is only temporary. And that leads me to the last change in perspective I want to share with you.

The anniversary of Becca’s death is also the day of her birth – her birth into a new body with both legs (her left leg was amputated because of bone cancer at age three) and a heart that is strong that no longer keeps her life so limited (since Becca suffered heart damage from the chemo, which is what eventually ended her life).  She didn’t get someone else’s used heart in a transplant that she so desperately needed here on earth. She got a brand new one that will never go bad on her again.

Painful grieving? Yes. But without hope? No.

So with that I will say, “Happy heavenly fifth birthday, Becca!”

Expressions of Hope is written by author and speaker Laura Diehl to bring hope, light and life to bereaved parents, which she call pareavors. (Pa from the word parent, and reave from the root word bereave which means “plundered or robbed, deprive one of, seized, carry, or tear away.”) This is a pretty good description of who we are and what has happened to us.

While you are here, please take a look around the GPS Hope (Grieving Parents Sharing Hope) website to discover all that is offered to grieving parents, including GPS Hope events that might be in your area.

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