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The Death of a Child is a True Test of Faith

Our son Lukas died as a result of a drunk driving crash; he was a passenger in the vehicle.

Losing our son has been a true test of our faith.  I know in my soul, that as bad as the injuries were, God could have healed Lukas 100%.  We hear of the miracles often in the Bible as messages of hope.

The eighth and ninth chapters of Matthew are full of miracles of healing:

  • Healing at Capernaum
  • Driving out demons
  • A girl restored
  • A woman healed
  • Healing of the blind

In John chapter eleven, Jesus even raised his friend Lazarus from the dead.

Since the day we lost our son, it has been especially hard to hear these stories, because that’s not our story.

For the first few days that Lukas was in the hospital, all I could pray was “save my son.” After a few more days, I was able to pray that if he was healed, he would also be made whole.  I knew Lukas would not be happy if he was incapacitated and as much as I wanted him here, I didn’t want the rest of his life to be a daily struggle for him.

When one of my friends came to see us in the hospital, she shared with me that she heard God tell her that Lukas is all right.  When she told me this, I couldn’t really respond, because I heard what the medical staff was telling me, and it wasn’t promising. At the time, she thought that Lukas would have an earthly healing. Now we know that he IS all right, but not the way we had hoped and prayed.

My favorite verse is Romans 8:28 “We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God; those who are called according to His purpose.” I struggled with this for a while. It is hard to find the good in the death of a young man with his whole life ahead of him.  He had so many people who cared about him. He had a solid plan for his future.

I know that since his accident happened on Easter weekend (probably the highest attended church service), it was likely that thousands of people were praying for his healing.  But we know that God’s plan is bigger than ours is.

Maybe “all things working together for good” doesn’t meet our definition of good but God’s.

Personally, I’d rather have my son here with me; I’d rather see his children come into the world; I’d rather that my other children have their little brother to grow old with, but that is not going to happen.

As I read Romans 8:28 and wonder, “Good? Where is the good in this?”  I continue to read on and see Romans 8:35 that says, “Who can separate us from the love of Christ? Can affliction or anguish or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?” and I see that God is here to comfort me and the rest of my family.

My anguish cannot separate me from the love of Christ.  It’s hard to remember that God loves our children more than we do. That’s hard to even comprehend, but He does.

We know that God did not let this happen to hurt anybody.  And when we lean on Him for comfort, He is there, even just to hold us while we fall apart.  I do not believe it is lack of faith to completely fall apart, or to question, or even to shake our fist at God asking WHY???  as long as we work through those emotions. This is part of grief.  This is what the Psalms are.

With His help, I do not stay in that pit of pain.

Corrie Ten Boom said, “When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.” Our world is still pretty dark at times, but trusting Him, our Engineer, helps us to bring back the light.

Yes, I’ve asked why. I’ve questioned how this could possibly be okay.  How can our son, who was liked by everyone, who had a future planned, not be here anymore?

The thing that keeps me going is the promise of seeing my child again. Every day here on earth brings me a day closer to the reunion promised to us because of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18

 

Linda Christofferson lost her son, Lukas, as a passenger in a drunk/drugged driving crash. She never lost faith in God and His plan but has struggled with His allowing this to happen. 
Linda and her husband, Robert, vowed from day one that this loss would not be in vain.  They have spoken to several hundred high school students about the impact of impaired driving and take the time to speak with young people individually when the opportunity presents itself.

Would you like to write for GPS Hope? Contact us at office@gpshope.org.

 

Expressions of Hope is written (or provided) by author, speaker and singer Laura Diehl. 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, including being invited to hold one-day GPS Hope & Healing conferences.

If you would like more information about Laura as a speaker for your next event or want more information on hosting a GPS Hope & Healing conference, click here.

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How to Help a Grieving Parent

I have been doing a series on the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope weekly podcast of parents in the Bible who had a child die. It has been a fascinating study, seeing these historical events through the eyes of someone who has also had a child die.

What has really amazed me is how much is “hidden” that I have never realized was there in each child’s death, that bereaved parents can either grab ahold of, or let go of, in their grief journey.

The first death in the Bible was Adam and Eve not only having their child die, but it was at the hands of another son! I cannot even begin to imagine what a double whammy that would be like – to have one of my children murder my other child!

I have also shared about the baby of David and Bathsheba’s who died (making King Solomon a “rainbow baby”). Last week I talked about Mary, the mother of Jesus, who was told when Jesus was just an infant that a sword would pierce her soul. (Wow! Can we bereaved parents ever relate to that!!!)

This week I am studying Job, who lost all ten of his children at the same time! Once again, I am amazed to see how much is there that we pareavors can lean into.

One of the things I have seen so clearly with Job’s story, is something I would like to share with you.

Job’s friends started out right. They sat with him for seven days in silence, just being with him in his grief, but then they started to offer him solutions (out of their own ignorance). In fact, by the end, God told three of them to go to Job and offer burnt sacrifices and have Job pray for them. My servant Job will pray for you, and I will accept his prayer and not deal with you according to your folly (Job 42:7-8 NIV).

Let’s look at a couple of other scriptures.

Romans 12:15 is a pretty familiar one to most of us. Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep.  Some translations say mourn with those who mourn.

Here is one we aren’t quite as familiar with. Prov. 25:20 states, Like one who takes away a garment on a cold day, or like vinegar poured on a wound, is one who sings songs to a heavy heart (NIV). 

Here it is in a different translation. When you sing a song of joy to someone suffering in the deepest grief and heartache, it can be compared to disrobing in the middle of a blizzard or rubbing salt in a wound (TPT).

There is a reason I am sharing these verses with you.

I want to help you know how to truly minister to someone who is grieving a deep loss.

Because we love and care for that person, we want to make them feel better, so we offer our best solution, which usually starts with “At least…”

  • At least you still have your other children
  • At least you know she’s in a better place
  • At least you can be happy for her because she is healed now
  • At least you got to have him for 19 years

That doesn’t make us feel better. It’s pouring vinegar (or salt) on our open gaping wound. It is making us feel totally exposed in the freezing cold blizzard of our painful loss.

Saying those kinds of things is like being Job’s comforters. They had never experienced what Job was going through, but for some reason, they decided they had the answers he needed.

Which brings up another thing some people do, thinking it helps the person grieving.

I know how you feel because I lost my ___________.

I get it. We are trying to relate to that person who is in deep grief with our deepest loss. But that just doesn’t help, especially if it isn’t even a similar loss such as, I know how you feel in losing your child because I cried for six months when my grandpa died. (Yes, I have heard that…)

One thing I have noticed is that bereaved parents very rarely tell even another grieving parent, I know how you feel, even if they lost their child the same way. We just seem to understand that our relationship with our child and the depth of the loss is so unique, that I don’t know how you feel about your loss. I know how I felt. I know the darkness I went through and how I didn’t want to live anymore for a while, etc. But that doesn’t mean I know how you feel.

Then there are the statements such as: 

  • You are so strong. I couldn’t go through what you are going through. (Say what? That makes it sound like I chose to have this loss. Believe me, I am not strong, just because you see me barely surviving.)
  • God needed another angel, so He took your child (spouse, etc.). (Newsflash: God doesn’t kill people on earth to fill an angel roster in heaven. What an awful thought!)
  • God says He won’t give us more than we can handle. (That is not in the Bible. There is a verse that says He won’t let us be tempted more than we can bear and will provide a way of escape in 1 Corinthians 10:13. In fact, we are told when life is more than we can handle that He will be our Rock, our Fortress, Our Deliver, Our Anchor, etc.)
Don’t beat yourself up if you have heard yourself say any of those things I have mentioned!

I didn’t know either, until my daughter, Becca, died. It makes me wonder how often I was like Job’s comforters, trying to offer my best solution to something I thought would help the person in deep pain, when I didn’t know what I was talking about.

So, what do I say instead?

Most often, nothing!

Let them know how sorry you are. Give them a hug, and just be with them. You can also look around to see what they need and make sure it gets done.

If you tell them, “Let me know If you need anything,” don’t expect us to contact you. After the death of our child, most of the time we don’t know what we need. If we do know, we aren’t usually going to make the effort to find someone who can help us with whatever it is. It’s just not in us – physically, emotionally, and often even spiritually. We don’t want to be around peppy people who want to try and make us feel better or fix us. We don’t want to be a burden. We are lost, confused, and in so much pain. We just want to know someone cares enough to:

  • Weep with us and hold our hand while we weep
  • Let us talk about our loss, maybe even go to the cemetery with us
  • Bring a meal for our family 2 months later, well beyond the 2-week supply from the church
  • Clean our house or do some of the laundry
  • Go for a walk with us, not with chatter that drains us, but allow us to feel what we need to feel in the silence
  • Share memories and look at pictures with us if we feel compelled to do so
  • Take our car and put gas in it for us, or if needed, have the oil changed, put new wiper blades on, etc.
  • Bless us by having a quilt made from our child’s T-shirts, or have a 3-D glass picture made from our favorite picture taken with our child, or something uniquely special we can treasure

And most importantly, to allow us to TALK ABOUT OUR CHILD. We are so afraid people will forget about him or her. One of the greatest gifts you can give a parent whose child has died it the gift of talking about their child with them.

You can also gently point them to places that have support and resources specifically for grieving parents. You may not be able to relate to their loss, but there are those who can, and who want to walk with them through the suffocating darkness of child-loss; those who have been in that place and can give them hope that it is possible to get through it to the other side and have hope and light again in their lives.

Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope) is one of those places. Some of the resources we have to offer are:
  • A weekly podcast
  • A weekly YouTube video
  • A weekly Word of Hope delivered by email
  • A monthly blog
  • Several award-winning books, including a coloring book/journal
  • A webpage with a free library of downloadable helpful resources
  • A monthly Share & Care online fellowship group

Just sent them to gpshope.org where they can poke around and find what is helpful to them.

There is something for you there as well. Just click on the front-page article I Know a Grieving Parent. You will find more there to help you understand some specific things a parent is dealing with after the death of their child, so you can even more effectively be a strength and support to them.

I pray this has been helpful. Thank you so much for wanting to know how to help a devastated parent who has lost their child from this earth. Your loving support means more to us than we will ever be able to put into words.

There are more things than were able to be mentioned in this article. If you would like to receive the PDF of Eight Things to Avoid and Eight Things to Do For a Grieving Parent, just submit your name and email address below. (It will put you on our mailing list to receive updates about GPS Hope and stories about those we are helping, but you can unsubscribe any time you no longer want to receive them.)

 

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.

Looking for a speaker for your next event or want more information on hosting a GPS Hope & Healing conference? Click here.

GPS Hope exists to walk with grieving parents through the suffocating darkness of child-loss to a place of hope, light and purpose.
  • If you are not a bereaved parent but want to support those who are, or want to follow us as we give hope to these precious parents, please connect with us at Friends of GPS Hope on Facebook.
  • If you are a bereaved parent, we encourage you to connect with us on Facebook and subscribe to Laura’s YouTube channel for grieving parents.

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Five Lessons About Grief from Climbing a Mountain

A few weeks ago, the Hope Mobile (our 38-foot motor home that we live in full-time) was parked at a campground in a beautiful valley, surrounded by small mountains. As I would go walking in the mornings, a few of those times I found myself following a trail that took me up one of those mountains.

One morning I realized how my climb up the mountain paralleled several things in my grief journey after my oldest daughter, Becca, died. Here are five of those things.

  1. It’s a lot of work climbing up those mountains. And when you get to the top, it’s wonderful, but you don’t get to stay there. You must work your way back down.

The earlier we are in our grief journey, the harder the climb is and the less time we stay at the top. We find ourselves almost immediately tumbling back down the mountainside, back into the valley. With anything in life, mountaintop experiences are great, even exhilarating. But we don’t get to stay there. It is in the valley where most maturing happens and life-lessons are learned, including how much we need to depend on God to be our guide though this life.

  1. What kept me moving forward and continuing to go up the mountain was not being able to see the full path in front of me. I freely admit I would not have kept going if I could have seen the full path all the way to the top. I kept thinking, “I’ll just go up to that point where it curves, and I’ll probably be at the top.” And when I would turn that corner, there would be more path and I would think again, “Okay, let me get to that point up there,” and I would get there and find more path.

It’s a good thing we can’t see the full path of our lives ahead of time. We can only take a little bit at a time. But that doesn’t mean every corner we turn is bad, it is just unknown what lies ahead. If we keep going, based on what we can see, and not worry about what we can’t see, we will eventually make it all the way.

  1. The last mountain I climbed was taking longer than I thought it would. I was getting quite tired and I started hoping I would meet up with the path I was on the day before, which would be a quicker way back down. As I kept going forward, looking for that other path, I eventually found myself at the very top of this new mountain. As I looked to my right, I was shocked to see that waaaayyyy down below me was the top of the mountain where I had stood the day before. I had no idea that I was climbing that much higher!

As we keep walking on this journey, one step at a time (sometimes one breath at a time) we will one day suddenly discover that we are doing better than we ever thought we could or would. At the time though, it feels like we can’t go on and things will never get better.

  1. Quite often I was paying so much attention to the path and my steps, that I was missing the view, so sometimes I would stop and look out, to enjoy what was around me.

Quite often we are so consumed by our grief (and rightly so, especially those first few weeks and months) that we don’t see what is going on around us. There are good things all around us; things we can still be thankful for. Sometimes we need to force ourselves to put our grief on pause to look for those things.

  1. I also used those times of looking around at the view to get rested before continuing.

Grief is a lot of hard work! It can take everything we have just to be in survival mode. It’s okay to rest when you are weary, when triggers hit hard, and you don’t have any energy to do even the simplest things like take a shower or put a frozen pizza in the oven.

And if you are someone who has faced the death of your child, it is one of the worst traumas a person can go through on this earth. (You will find that experts support this, saying we are going through what is called “traumatic grief” and that five years and less is considered fresh grief for a parent who has lost a child.) You have been through a trauma and can possibly even be dealing with PTSD.

Rest is not only okay, it is what you need, in every area, physically, emotionally, and yes, even spiritually in some ways.

There is one last comparison I would like to share with you, which might possibly be the most important one.

I can show you lots of pictures I took while climbing these mountains. I can tell you some of the things God was speaking to me, but it was my personal climb. Even if you had been with me, we would have seen things through our own eyes and our own thoughts.

In other words, we can be on the same path together, and yet we will be on our own personal separate climb. I would only be able to do so much to pull you into what I was seeing and how I was feeling. I could point something out to you, but you would be seeing it through your own lens of life. You would be having your own experience. It would be with me, and yet separate from me. Some of our climb would be the same experience, and some of it would be very different.

We are each on our own grief journey. Even if you are like me and have lost a child from this earth, there is no way I know how you feel. I know how I felt after my daughter died. I know the suffocating darkness I experienced. I know how I would forget to breath and have to consciously tell myself to take a breath. I know how I wanted to stop hurting so bad and how the darkness lasted for so much longer than I thought it should.

I know how I didn’t want to live, which didn’t make sense because I knew in my head I had so much still to live for. (I had a loving husband, four other children and two grandchildren at the time – one of those being the 9-year-old daughter of my daughter who had died).  None of that mattered. My heart wanted to be with my daughter who was now gone from this earth, and I knew I couldn’t stay here if the rest of my life was going to be this painful. (I wasn’t suicidal, I just didn’t want to live any more and begged God to take me out of here!)

You see, we each have many of the same grief experiences, but it is all though our own personal journey of our personal relationship with the one who died. I know how I felt, but that doesn’t mean I know how you feel, even if you lost a daughter the same way I lost my daughter, through heart damage caused by chemotherapy.

I want to encourage you to keep climbing. If you started and found yourself back down in the valley, go again after you are rested. And even though we each have our own experience, please know that if you are a bereaved parent, we are here at GPS Hope (Grieving Parents Sharing Hope), walking with you every step of the way.

 

For those who would like some helpful ideas on how to take care of yourself on this grief journey, we would like to send you a free resource. To have Thirty Ways to Bring Yourself Comfort and Take Care of Yourself delivered directly to your inbox, just submit your name and email address below.

Note: This will connect you with GPS Hope, including joining over 1,000 bereaved parents who receive a Weekly Word of Hope email on our journey together. If you want to stop receiving it at any time, just hit the unsubscribe button at the bottom of any email.

 

Expressions of Hope is written by author, speaker and singer Laura Diehl. 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, including being invited to hold one-day GPS Hope & Healing conferences.

 

If you would like more information about Laura as a speaker for your next event or want more information on hosting a GPS Hope & Healing conference, click here.

 

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Learning to Rest in God

“Don’t do, just be.”

This was the message I kept hearing from many different places for the first two years after Becca’s leaving this earth. I believe it is a message we all need at some point when working our way through the darkness and back into the light after the death of our child.

We all need that place where we can go to get away and rest. However, the rest we truly need to come into is not a time and a place. It is a position; a way of life. But often we must begin with the time and place in order to learn to live in that position.

That means we have to set time aside specifically to be alone in God’s presence, especially if we have a hard time believing He truly loves us after not stepping in to save our child from earthly death. We need to “just be” in the stillness of His presence, where He can speak peace to us and fill us with His extravagant love.

During that time those first couple of years, God gave me many reminders to rest in Him and His ways. It was a hard thing to do, because I could not see any light in my darkness or understand why God was allowing so much intense pain.

He would share His reminders to just “be” and rest in Him in so many different ways. He would remind me to take a breath and breathe in His love and peace. He never sugarcoated anything, but would acknowledge how difficult and steep my climb was, telling me to cling tightly to His hand, reminding me to look at Him whenever my circumstances overwhelmed me.

He knew how weak and helpless I was, and He never tired of meeting me in my place of need. Looking back, I see now how each time He would free me from a few more of my shackles, even though most of the time I couldn’t feel it.

Not only would He “hold” me, but He would encourage me to relax in the awareness of His presence. Some of my most precious times with the Lord were in my greatest times of weakness, just letting everything go and melting into His peace, love, and compassion. And so much peace and deep revelation came out of those times of intimacy in those first few years.

For example, I discovered so many scriptures that I had misunderstood, such as Matthew 11:28-29 where Jesus says,

Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. (NIV)

There are lots of theological teachings on what Jesus meant by this, including what it meant for Jesus, as a rabbi, to say this. But at that moment of my life, the revelation of those verses didn’t mean that Jesus would make my life easy, but that being yoked together with Him is being yoked to that place of rest for my soul; that He would help me carry this heavy burden which is impossible for me to carry on my own.

I rediscovered Psalm 23 in The Complete Jewish Bible translation, that promises to restore my inner person, and that if I pass through death-dark ravines, He is with me; and that His grace and goodness are still pursuing me every day of my life.

This is not to say at some point I got it all figured out and now continually live from a place of rest. I wish God would just speak a command and make it all better, taking away the pain and replacing it with constant peace and rest, but it hasn’t happened that way.

Learning how to live in that place of resting in God has been a process. The pain can still be pretty intense at times, making me feel like I am going backwards, losing that peace and the place of rest.

For instance, a while back, Becca’s husband dropped off four plastic tubs on our front porch. They were full of things he no longer wanted taking up space in his garage. Two bins held Becca’s collection of Snow Buddies she put out every Christmas. One had all of her cassette tapes and CDs, and one contained lots of odds and ends, such as medical items used during her last year and a half of life, and some beautiful photo scrapbooks Becca spent hours on of their family.

But the thing that left me in a crying mess for the next few days was when I discovered her wedding dress smashed in the bottom of one of those bins. My heart still hurts, thinking about it. It felt so cruel, so careless, like she was no longer wanted or to be remembered. My daughter’s life has been reduced to four plastic bins, I thought. But instead of allowing myself to go in that direction, I told myself the truth. Her life was much bigger than these four bins. However… it was another door of finality I had to painfully work through, and once again make a conscious decision to rest in who God is within the circumstance.

Learning to rest in God is a must if you want to get out of your place of darkness.

And that means spending time alone with Him. You don’t even have to talk to Him;  just “be” with Him. Don’t feel guilty about being angry with Him, or about taking lots of time to be closed in with the One who loves you like crazy and wants to get you out of the pit and onto the path of living again.

Spend intimate time with Him. Lots of it. Let Him show you the way out by showing you the fullness of Himself. If you stick with it, I guarantee you will learn to come into that place of rest that we all so desperately need after the earthly departure of our child.

Would we rather have our child back? Absolutely. But that isn’t going to happen here on this earth. So, we might as well allow God to love on us and be at work in us, so that their death isn’t wasted in our lives.

 

This blog was taken from the chapter The Bedroom of Rest, from the award-winning book When Tragedy Strikes: Rebuilding Your Life with Hope and Healing After the Death of Your Child.

This book, When Tragedy Strikes, now has a course for those who feel the need to go deeper, wanting to implement more specific and practical ways on how to rebuild their lives after the death of their child.

The course has three options, based on how much or how little guidance one feels they want or need.

  • The first option is a free mini course.
  • The second option is a full course with eight modules.
  • The third option is for those who see the value in having one-on-one guidance and interaction with author and instructor, Laura Diehl, in their grief journey as they go through the full course. NOTE: This is for a small limited group and only available 2-3 times a year.

The When Tragedy Strikes Hope & Healing Course was created to walk with and help navigate a parent who has lost a child to a place of light, hope and a life of purpose once again. It is easier walking with others who have been on this path than stumbling about on our own.

While the process of grief cannot be hurried, we can learn how to take steps, no matter how small, making sure we keep moving forward instead of remaining stuck in the pain and darkness of our horrific loss.

To find out more about the When Tragedy Strikes Hope & Healing Course, click here.

 

Expressions of Hope is written by author, speaker and singer Laura Diehl. 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, including being invited to hold one-day GPS Hope & Healing conferences.

 

If you would like more information about Laura as a speaker for your next event or want more information on hosting a GPS Hope & Healing conference, click here.

 

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I’ll Love You Forever

February is a month where “love is in the air” with Valentine’s Day. Personally, I always used this day to love on my kids, since I didn’t feel like Dave and I needed a day set aside to show our love for each other.

One reason the pain is so deep after the death of our child is because our love for him or her doesn’t go away when they leave us. The love we have for our children lasts forever, which is expressed in the writing below.

Forever

My child,
Flesh of my flesh,
Soul of my soul,
Part of my very being;
I had an instant deep and fierce love when I first saw you.
My heart was yours, and I knew I would give my very life to protect you.

And yet, here I sit, with the suffocating pain and darkness of knowing I was unable to protect you from death.

So now I find that just as deep and intense as my love for you, is the deep and intense pain of my grief in living without you. And yet I know that somehow, I must.

How? How God? How do I go on with a piece of my very being gone from this earth?

And as I ask and seek for this help, God in His tender love, compassion and faithfulness reminds me that I don’t have to live without you.

You are forever in my heart and my thoughts, and forever a part of my very being; that our separation is only temporary. You have just moved on to our eternal home before me and have unpacked and settled in, waiting for me and the rest of us to join you.

This isn’t a final good-by. It is an “I’ll see you later.” When I have the thoughts that I would give anything to see you again, to hug you or hear you laugh, I realize that I will! Maybe not as soon as I want to, but it will happen!

And so, I will wait. I will wait with hope, expectancy and even excitement to see you again. Every day I am here on this earth means I am one day closer to that desperate need that I have as a mother to love on you. 

And while I wait, I will choose to live my life in a way that is full; full of love, full of peace and contentment, full of laughter. And yet I know it will also still be full of pain and longing. For I have now learned that all of these things can live inside of me together.

So, let me say I am honored. I am honored and blessed to be your mom, and I imagine and dream of our reunion someday, filled with love and joy that goes beyond words to describe it.

But until then, I will have good days and bad days. I will have days filled with happiness, and days filled with pain. And all of those days I will continue miss you with every fiber of my being.

We grieve deeply, because we love deeply. That is one of the risks of love. But as the poem reminds us, our child is forever in our hearts and in our thoughts. He or she is forever a part of our very being. Our separation is only temporary, because God, in His deep love for our child and for us, made a way for that to be possible.

Consider praying this prayer with me: Lord, my deep grief is a reminder of my deep love that cannot be poured out on my child right now. But someday we will be together again, and all this stored up love will be dumped on my child! And Father, I ask that right now, you would give my child a big hug from me, and love on them in my place. Thank you.

 

If you were to buy a little Valentine gift to show your child how much you love and miss them, what would it be? I would love to have you share it in the comments below.

 

By the way, Laura has written a song that expresses some of the thoughts above. Click here to listen to the song Together Forever.

 

 

 

 

Expressions of Hope is written by author, speaker and singer Laura Diehl. 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, including being invited to hold one-day GPS Hope & Healing conferences.

If you would like more information about Laura as a speaker for your next event or want more information on hosting a GPS Hope & Healing conference, click here.

 

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