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Psalm 23:1 Through the Eyes of Child Loss

Psalm 23:1 states that because the Lord is our Shepherd, we have everything we need. As a bereaved parent, that can be difficult to believe, because we feel like we need our child back!

The Need for Gritty Grace

One thing we truly desperately need is grace. But we don’t just need grace. As my friend Kim Avery (who lost a daughter from this earth) says, what we need at a time like this is “gritty grace.”

We don’t know for sure what it was, but we do know that there was something that was causing a lot of suffering for Paul. We read in 2 Corinthians 12 that Paul asked God three times to take this thing away, and three times God said, “No.”. But He also told Paul that His grace was “sufficient” (or just enough) to get him through whatever it was, and that God’s power was being seen through Paul’s weakness.

When we first find ourselves in this horrible place of pain and suffocating darkness, His grace is just enough to get us through each day, each hour, each minute, or just the next breath. (That is what Kim calls gritty grace.) But His grace is more than just barely making it through. It is also deep at work in us for when we come out of our place of darkness. He not only gives us the strength to endure but also starts changing what we want.

Our Shepherd isn’t just helping us survive, He is shifting our desires, giving us the power to do what we could never do on our own. When I say He is shifting our desires, I don’t mean that we stop loving or missing our child, but He changes what we think we need, which shifts us into the place of peace that we so desperately want and need.

From Survival to New Purpose

God’s grace will not only get us past just surviving, but to where we even start feeling happiness and joy. We can and will have meaning and purpose once again in our lives because of His grace; because He has everything we truly need.

I know some of you may think that is impossible. But nothing is impossible when it comes to God. Do you agree that it would take a miracle for your life to get to that place? Guess what? God is in the miracle working business.

His power is at work in us, shaping us into something absolutely beautiful, so much more than we can imagine. As we lean on and depend on Him to help us through, we become someone we never thought or even imagined that we could be.

The Shepherd Who Has Everything We Need

God’s grace is changing our focus from what we think we need, to what we really need, which is Him, as our Shepherd. This isn’t a consolation prize, or second best for those of us who didn’t get the miracle for our child that we wanted. It is God’s deepest, most personal and intimate work.

He is making us whole, with a strength that comes through His grace that we would not have any other way. This is why David could say in Psalm 23 that God has (and is) everything we need. We really don’t fully know the power of God’s grace, until we experience it in a way like this.

The Lord truly is Your Shepherd and has everything you need to get through this. Keep leaning into Him until you see the truth of it for yourself.

NOTE: This was partially taken from the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast episode 298. Click here to listen to the full discussion, or look for the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast on your favorite listening app.

If you would like to join thousands of other bereaved parents receiving a weekly word of hope delivered to your inbox, let us know below.

Expressions of Hope is provided by Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope), a ministry founded by Dave and Laura Diehl, to walk with parents through the suffocating darkness of child-loss, guiding them to a place of hope, light and purpose. Laura is the author of multiple award-winning books, a national speaker and singer/songwriter.

If you would like more information about bringing Dave and Laura to you for an event, please send an email to office@gpshope.org.

If you are interested in bringing GPS Hope to your area for a weekend retreat click here.

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What Season of Grief are You In?

 

I don’t know about where you live, but in Wisconsin it’s always exciting to see the first robin of the year because it is a sure sign that spring is coming, even though there will probably be more snow. Both have happened. Robins have been seen, and they just got another twelve-hour snowstorm that dumped five to eight inches of snow!

Some years, the warm weather and the beauty of colorful flowers, green trees and grass, can arrive quite late, causing us to feel anxious. This makes me think about how anxious we can be in our grief, as well.

“When will I stop hurting so bad?”

“I don’t think I will ever enjoy life again.”

These are things we think and say, especially the first two or three years after the death of our child.

Everything is colorless, and we feel bitterly cold and dead inside ourselves. We can’t see a way out, thinking this is how it will be for the rest of our lives.

I have recently had several moms tell me that they didn’t think they ever would or could get past the darkness, but now two years, or three years, or five years after their child’s death, something is stirring inside them that they want to start feeling alive again. I see this as a sign that the “winter” of grief is coming to a close, and the new growth of spring is on its way.

There is no right or wrong amount of time for us to be in that dark suffocating place of grief. But wherever you are on this journey, I pray that this spring will give you a sign as a reminder of hope, that just like God made the sun to rise every morning, and spring to always follow winter, that He made a way for you to have life again after the death of your child, even if you can’t imagine it to be so.

As you know, it is lent, which leads up to Easter, the day we specifically remember Jesus’ death and resurrection. Even if you are angry at Him for not stepping in and saving your child from leaving this earth, I encourage you to take a moment to thank Him, that at least He made a way for you to be with your child again very soon, never to be separated again, because of what Jesus came to earth to do in reconciling a sinful decaying world to Himself.

Until that day comes, I hope you will also join me in being thankful that the winter season is coming to a close and spring is on its way, both physically in the seasons, and emotionally in our grief.

Oh, that we might know the Lord! Let us press on to know him. He will respond to us as surely as the arrival of dawn or the coming of rains in early spring. Hosea 6:3 (NLT)

 

 

Taken from the soon-to-be-released book Reflections of Hope: A Daily Reading for Bereaved Parents. Click here for details.

This was part of Episode 204 of the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast. Click here to listen to the rest of what was shared on this topic, or look for the podcast on your favorite listening app.

 

 

Expressions of Hope is provided by Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope). The founders, Dave and Laura Diehl, travel full time in their Hope Mobile (a 38-foot motor home) to be more easily available for speaking and ministry requests, and bringing intimate weekend retreats to bereaved parents. Laura is also a singer/songwriter and the author of multiple award-winning books.

If you would like more information about bringing Dave and Laura to you for an event, please send an email to office@gpshope.org.

If you are interested in bringing GPS Hope to your area for a weekend retreat click here.

 

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Why We Will Never Get Over It

A point of frustration for many bereaved parents after child loss is feeling like we are being judged for still missing our children.

There are some people around us who think we should be “moving on” or be “over it” by now, as if the death of our child is like a bad cold. Yes, the death of our child was an event, a moment in time. But that moment has disfigured us for the rest of our lives.

Having one’s child die is more than something bad that happened a few weeks ago, or months ago, or even years ago. The death of our child is a continual occurrence. Every morning when we wake up, at some point the realization hits us that our child is no longer here and will not be part of our day. It can feel like they died all over again.

Every event can feel like another death of our child.

  • Getting rid of a car that our child rode in can be agonizing because we will no longer have that car which attaches us to those memories.
  • There are meals we can no longer make (or eat) because it is too painful to be reminded that our child is not there to share their favorite food with us.
  • Seeing a pair of shoes displayed in a store can send us bolting to the car in tears, realizing that we will never again buy our child another pair for a sport they were in or for special occasions.
  • Hearing a certain song come on the radio can force us to the side of the road, unable to drive because we can’t see through our tears, even after we quickly turned it off.
  • Any and every event we attend (or are even invited to) is a reminder of who is missing. It can feel brutal seeing others who are our child’s age hitting life’s milestones that we will never get to experience with our child.

The death of one’s child is considered by most professionals to be one of the most (if not the most) traumatic event a person can deal with in life. Many parents also deal with PTSD, based on the circumstances of their child’s death.

I don’t think anyone can deny that it is a traumatic experience to walk behind your child’s casket and bury them, or to bring your child home as ashes in an urn. And for those parents who found their child’s body, or many other possible scenarios, they can also have PTSD.

Most of us are not stuck in our grief because we refuse to move on with our lives without our child. We are “stuck” because of being surrounded by constant reminders of our child who should be here as part of our everyday lives, but instead there is silence and a constant emptiness.

We do eventually learn to cope, but we don’t “get over it.”

If someone has an amputation, first they must heal, both physically and emotionally, from having that body part cut off; and the emotional healing takes much longer than the physical.

Then they must learn how to function and do everything differently with that part of them missing. Even when that happens, they are reminded multiple times a day that a body part has been cut off, because of how they are forced to live differently, in a way that helps them adapt to the loss.

Some days it is easy, some days it is a struggle to stay positive, and other days it hits them full force (almost like it just took place), no matter how long ago the amputation happened.

How do I know this? Our daughter, Becca, had her left leg amputated at only three years old because of cancer, so we had a front row seat to an amputee living day-to-day life.

As a bereaved parent, we have had our child amputated from us, and everything that an amputee must go through, we do as well. However, the emotional pain is multiplied and much more intense losing an entire person who is part of you, than losing something that is physically part of you, like a leg or an arm.

Several years ago, when I was working on one of my books, I was accused by someone that I was writing it as a way to continue dragging up the past instead of going forward. Wow!  First, I was writing the book to give hope to others who found themselves in the same suffocating pit that I had been thrown into, letting them know we can find our way out. Secondly, it was not dragging up the past; it was helping me learn how to cope with living in the present and in the future without my daughter.

Studies have shown that for those who have lost a child, anything under five years is considered fresh grief. So, I am not surprised when a bereaved parent does not believe they will ever have a life worth living again. I know I didn’t believe it.

However, we do eventually get stronger as we learn how to carry the grief in a way that does not feel like a heavy darkness every minute of the day. We will never get over our loss as if it never happened. That is impossible. But we can and will get over to the other side of the darkness, able to live a life of meaning and purpose again. This is not in spite of our child’s death, but because of his or her life.

 

This blog was taken from the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast episode 194, which has more shared on this topic. You can listen here on YouTube. To listen directly on the GPS Hope website click here or find the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast on your favorite listening app.

NOTE: Some of this was taken from Laura’s book Come Grieve Through Our Eyes: How to Give Comfort and Support to Bereaved Parents. To find out more about this book, along with Laura’s other books click here.

 

Expressions of Hope is provided by Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope). The founders, Dave and Laura Diehl, travel full time in their Hope Mobile (a 38-foot motor home) to be more easily available for speaking and ministry requests, and bringing intimate weekend retreats to bereaved parents. Laura is also a singer/songwriter and the author of multiple award-winning books.

If you would like more information about bringing Dave and Laura to you for an event, please send an email to office@gpshope.org.

If you are interested in bringing GPS Hope to your area for a weekend retreat click here.

 

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Our Grief is Like…

 

There are many ways to illustrate what our grief is like after the death of our child. Here are the four that I seem to relate to the most.

  1. The loss of our child is like having an amputation. Part of our very being has been cut off from us, and we have to figure out how to live with that piece of us missing.

I had a front row seat to this, since our daughter, Becca, had her little left leg amputated when she was only 3 years old, due to cancer in her bone (osteogenic sarcoma). Read her story here. She “recovered,” but her life was never the same.

There was obviously a major scar because she only had a stump instead of her leg. She didn’t look like the other kids. She couldn’t run and keep up with them. She had limitations. Every day she woke up with the reminder that her leg was missing, and every day, sometimes multiple times a day, she had to be determined not to let it stop her from still having a fulfilling life.

With Becca gone now, there are constant painful reminders of that fact. I don’t look like other parents. I have a hard time keeping up with life sometimes because of my limitations.  Every day I have to be determined to not let her death keep me from having a fulfilling life with those who are still here.

If my three-year-old daughter could figure out how to live with a piece of her cut off, then so can I! She was the greatest example of anyone I know, who persevered and didn’t let something like an amputated leg keep her from still having a wonderful life for the twenty-nine years she had here on this earth.

  1. Grief is like carrying a large sharp rock in your pants pocket. At first you are very aware of it, as it bangs against your leg with every movement. It might even cut and bruise your leg, making it more painful.

After a while, you are aware it is there, but it doesn’t bother you as much. Then you move on to times where you consciously forget the rock is there as you go throughout your day. But whenever you reach into your pocket to grab something else, as your hand feels the rock, you remember…

Sometimes you bump up hard against something, and that rock cuts or bruises you again, and you are back to walking tenderly, waiting for it to heal.

There are times you will put your hand in your pocket because you want (or need) to feel the rock. Some of those times you will even pull the rock out to hold it and look at it, but it eventually goes back into your pocket.

Even if we change pants, the rock will always go with us, into the new pocket.

  1. Grief is like the ocean waves. You feel like you have been shipwrecked and there are huge waves crashing over you with no mercy. Every time you try to come up for air, all you can do is get a quick gasp, only to be tumbled around by another wave crashing over you. When you think you can’t take any more (multiple times), the waves start coming further apart. At least now you can catch your breath.

Eventually the waves aren’t as big, making it easier to get back to the top when you get thrown under them.

Calm waters eventually come, but there will still be waves and storms that send you swirling, being thrown underneath the water again, leaving you gasping for air. But each time, you get better at maneuvering through them. You also know they will stop at some point and the calm waters will come once again.

  1. Grief is like carrying a backpack of rocks up a mountain. At first you can’t move under the weight, as you look up to where you need to go, believing it is impossible. With much effort and struggle, you begin to slowly inch your way forward.

After a while, you are able to stand up and take some steps, even though you often stumble backward and fall down under the weight of the backpack. As you continue to struggle, eventually, you discover to your shock, that you are walking up the mountain. It’s hard, but you’re doing it.

The backpack of rocks becomes easier to carry as your strength builds. However, there are times you need to take a rest. Some rests are relatively short. Others take longer because you are once again feeling the full weight of what you are carrying.

The longer you climb, the easier it gets, and the fewer rests you seem to need. But you will always continue to have the backpack of rocks to carry and have the effects of it.

I have also learned that there are no “stages of grief” after a deep loss, like the death of one’s child. As an FYI, the five stages of grief were presented by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross for those who are terminally ill. They are the stages a person works through upon receiving the news that they are going to die. It was not for those who are still here after a loss.

So, with that, I have one more analogy.

Our grief is like a very tangled up ball of yarn and each of us has our own individual mess of yarn to untangle. I have knit since junior high, learning through 4-H, and have dealt with more tangled balls and skeins of yarn than I could ever count! There have been times the tangle was so frustrating that I quit trying and just put it away for another time. There have also been times I literally cut the yarn into pieces, trying to get it untangled (which made for a lot of ends to have to knit together)!

But eventually, whatever I was working on was finished and it brought joy to whomever it was intended for, including myself. One thing I have noticed, is that over the years I have gotten better at untangling the messes, and don’t have to cut it into pieces anymore.

Grief is hard work. Fortunately, it does get easier, even though we will deal with the pain of our loss for the rest of our time here on earth.

If you feel like you haven’t gotten very far and that you should be further along than you are, don’t allow yourself to get discouraged. You will get there, as you continue this unwanted journey, one step (or one tangle) at a time.

Whatever you do, don’t compare where you are to anyone else, especially those who have never experienced the death of their child! You are untangling your own messy ball of grief, and it is unlike anyone else’s. There is no right or wrong way and there are NO time limits!

Do any of these illustrations resonate with you? Let me know in the comments below. Also, maybe you can find a tangible item (or a picture) and put it somewhere you can see, to remind yourself that even though it might be really hard right now, as you keep going, eventually it will get better.

One final thought: You might want to share this, so that others around you can get a better understanding that our grief is like…

 

 

 

Do you struggle with guilt from your child’s death? We would like to send you the eBook, Ten Tips to Overcome Guilt. Just submit your name and email address below. You will also begin to receive a Weekly Word of Hope for bereaved parents (which you can easily unsubscribe from at any time).

 

Expressions of Hope is provided by Grieving Parents Sharing Hope (GPS Hope). The founders, Dave and Laura Diehl, travel full time in their Hope Mobile (a 38-foot motor home) to be more easily available for speaking and ministry requests, and bringing intimate weekend retreats to bereaved parents. Laura is also a singer/songwriter and the author of multiple award-winning books.

If you would like more information about bringing Dave and Laura to you for an event, please send an email to office@gpshope.org.

If you are interested in bringing GPS Hope to your area for a weekend retreat click here.

 

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Four Things We Can Learn from the Mother of Jesus About Child Loss (Part 2)

This is the time of year we think about and celebrate the birth of Christ. But have you thought about the fact that we can relate to Mary through the eyes of a bereaved parent? I recently spent some time studying this out and discovered quite a bit about Mary that I had not realized or thought about, until I had a child who died.

The first two things are in the previous blog you can read here. In this article, we are going to look at the last two things.

Third observation

One of the biggest things to notice is that Mary completely surrendered to the Lord’s plans for her life, not knowing what that meant and how painful her future would be. In Luke 1:18 we find her telling the angel, Gabriel, “Behold the handmaiden of the Lord, (I am the Lord’s servant) be it unto me according to your word.”

As we already noted, I am sure Mary had no idea that her son would die a very brutal death at the age of 33, and she would be there to watch it.

I used to think, “At least Jesus rose from the dead and came back to life here on this earth. I don’t have that with Becca!” But as I was studying this out, I realized Mary still lost him permanently from this earth, because He was only here for 40 days and then He went to heaven.

The permanent earthly loss of her son here on earth was confirmed at the foot of the cross when Jesus looked down and gave his mom to the apostle John to take care of (John 19:26-27). This is also confirmation that his brothers still didn’t believe who Jesus was because the next son in line should have been the one to take care of the mother.

We may not be able to relate to Mary’s exact, unique grief, but she was a mom whose child died and left this earth for her remaining time here, which is something we can all relate to.

 

Fourth Observation

Mary watched her son die. Nothing could prevent this mother from standing by her son to the very end, no matter how brutal it was. I can’t help but think that some of you have had the same experience of being with your child until he or she took their last breath. You know what that is like to be with them.

I didn’t have that experience. My daughter, Becca, was in the hospital, with plans of being dismissed the next morning. The night of October 12, 2011 her heart was crashing, and she was fighting everyone, trying to get out of bed, yelling at them to leave her alone. Her husband told her to lie down and let them do what they needed to do and was kicked out of the hospital room. She died surrounded by a bunch of medical staff trying to save her.

I wish I had been with her, sort of… I think it has to be one of those bittersweet things. Those of us who weren’t with our child don’t have that as another image we have to get out of our heads. On the other hand, we have to fight the guilt that we weren’t there with them, feeling like he or she died alone.

Did Mary have thoughts of “If only I had…” or “I should have….”?

Did she think about the last time Jesus gave her a hug? The last time they had a meal together? The last time she heard Him laugh? The last time she was able to say, “I love you?” I can’t help but think that she did, because that is what the rest of us do.

The last mention of Mary is in the upper room with the other believers (Acts 1:14). Jesus had risen from the grave, but He had also left this earth permanently. What was that like? There must have been some intense grieving, knowing she had just gotten Him back and now He was gone, never to be here on earth with her again.

Knowing that Mary stayed with the group and was in the upper room when the Holy Spirit showed up in a big way, is an example to us that life can be worth living again. Mary knew she would see her son again. She figured out how to keep living, even within the grief.

Our children are alive also! They may not have come back for a few days after they died and then risen up in the clouds in their bodies, but he or she is alive and with Jesus! Thank you, Father that part of Your will for our lives is to reunite us with our children, never to be separated again.

I want to wrap this up by looking at a scripture that talks about Jesus’ mother in Luke 11:27-28. As Jesus was saying these things, a woman in the crowd called out, “Blessed is the mother who gave you birth and nursed you.” Jesus replied, “Even more blessed are those who hear God’s voice and make God’s message their way of life”. (VOICE)

If we take this scripture to heart, what is God’s voice to us as bereaved parents? I believe it is that we have that exact same hope as Mary. We will see our children again, and we can fight our way out of the grief. I want to encourage you not to choose to remain stuck in the event of your child’s death, but learn how to live in a way that honors the life of your child, just like Mary did.

And just like the Holy Spirit showed up in that upper room for those who were waiting for Him, I believe the Holy Spirit will show up for you. He will comfort you, and not only comfort you, but give you the strength to live out your life here with meaning and purpose, until it is time to join your child, and Mary and Jesus in heaven.

Until then, you might be interested in listening to the podcast series People in the Bible Who Lost a Child. Just click on each individual episode below to read the description and listen to it directly on the GPS Hope website. (You can also find each one on your favorite podcast app. Just look for the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast.)

49: The First Death in the Bible was a Son Who Was Murdered (Adam and Eve)
50: The Rainbow Baby in the Bible (King David lost an infant son before Solomon was born)
51: Three Things we Can Learn from Jesus’ Mother After the Death of Our Child
53: Trying to Find God in the Midst of Our Deepest Pain (A look at Job)
54: Why Did God Allow Me to Suffer Like This? (Job’s suffering after the death of all ten of his children)
55: From Fullness to Bitterness to Fullness Again (Naomi)
56: Reunited with Our Children (Jacob and Jairus)
57: Our Grief is the Same, Yet Different (two groups in the Bible who had children mass murdered)

 

Note: On each podcast, I announce the name, birthday and forever age of our children who are no longer here with us, the week of his or her birthday. If you would like to share your child with our listeners, just click here to fill out and submit the form with the needed information.

 

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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