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Our Dark Thoughts in Grief

Our actions are based on our emotions. The way we are acting (or reacting) to the death of our child is based on our emotions. Our emotions run very deep. There is so much pain. There is so much confusion. There is darkness and a feeling of hopelessness. That is normal and natural.

But I believe with everything in me that is not where we have to stay.

My emotions are driven by my thoughts. I can think things like I will never get past this or I will always feel this way. I know some parents even have the thought I don’t want to get past this, which is usually because they equate the pain of grieving their child with remembering their child. They are afraid if they quit hurting so much, they will forget their child.

This is a perfect example of how your beliefs drive your thoughts. If you believe that staying in your pain will keep the memory of your child alive, then you will continue in that emotional state of despair. You will not be able to live a life of peace, hope, and fullness (which includes living a life of meaning and purpose again, not in spite of your child’s death, but because of his or her life).

I’m trying to get you to believe that maybe, just maybe, it is possible to get past this suffocating darkness—to think if others have, maybe I can too.

I remember exactly when I grabbed hold of that belief; it was a turning point for me. I was standing in the cemetery, crying at my daughter, Becca’s, grave. I stood there and looked around at all those other tombstones.

I knew many of them were for children or young adults because I had spent many hours walking around reading the tombstones, including the dates, and figuring out how old they were when they were buried. I thought about how every single one of those tombstones had a story of the people who were left behind, who had grieved and mourned. Every one of those tombstones represented someone’s pain and loss.

It suddenly hit me that all these people (including those who had buried a child) somehow managed to get through it. And somehow, I could too. That realization planted a tiny seed of hope that I didn’t have to stay in this dark place, which gave me what I needed to slowly start working my way out of the black pit.

Believing the truth is just as powerful as believing a lie.

People do what they do, based on their feelings, because of what they believe. Most people live mainly out of their feelings, and feelings do not always equal the truth. To put that a different way, just because I have feelings about something, no matter how strong, does not mean my feelings are necessarily based on the truth.

To change your behavior, which is driven by your emotions, you must know and understand the truth. It is truth that will set you free. However, it can be a messy and painful process.

When God created us, He did an amazing thing. One of the ways He made us in His image is by allowing us to think our own thoughts. He does not control our thoughts, even though He could. He allows us to think He is the evil one.

I remember times when my kids blamed me for something and were angry at me when I wasn’t the one who caused the pain, or my decision was based on something I could see that they could not. It’s the same way with God. He allows us to have our own thoughts, even if we believe a lie about Him. That is how much He loves us. He doesn’t force us to trust Him or love Him. He lets it come from our own choice and our own thoughts.

Don’t let the enemy take the greatest pain and darkness you have ever faced and turn it into a lie that God doesn’t love you, or that He has turned His back on you.

One of the best ways to get out of the enemy’s sticky web is to still your soul, quiet your own thoughts, and ask God to give you His thoughts. You need to be transformed—totally changed—by the renewing of your mind (Romans 12:2). Allow God’s thoughts to speak softly to you in the depths of your being to set you free from the turmoil. Sit quietly in His presence, letting His thoughts reprogram your thinking.

What you focus on is what you will grow. So, if you continue to focus on the pain and loss, it will grow until it is ready to consume you and overtake you. But if instead you think about, focus on, and give thanks for what or who you still have, that is what will begin to grow, and eventually it will bring you out of that deep dark place.

You may not think so right now, but you can get to the place where you celebrate your child’s life, instead of being stuck in the pain of their death. The question is: Where are you rooting and grounding your thoughts? If it can happen for me, and countless other pareavors who thought that was impossible, it can happen to you.

Do you need help with your thoughts? Are you looking for a connection that will give you hope? Let Laura send you her Weekly Word of Hope, delivered each Wednesday. (Your email address is safe with GPS Hope.)

 

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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‘Twas the Night after Christmas 2022

Twas the night after Christmas and I was still numb;

The holidays felt like they had not really come.

It’s hard to explain, but it didn’t seem fair,

That my child is now gone, and I cannot share

The laughter and joy of this fun holiday

In our wonderful, traditional family way.

She is not nestled all snug in her bed

With memories of another Christmas filling her head.

“Will it ever get better?” I ask in my heart,

Knowing that each year we will remain apart.

As I cry out to God full of heartache and tears,

He reminds me His presence remains very near.

And though I don’t feel a desire to celebrate 

The reason to do so remains very great.

For Jesus came as a baby on earth

To give life here meaning, value and worth.

And even though I have said goodbye

And I am confused and don’t know why,

The truth remains I will see you again

And there will be no more tears or pain.

But until that day comes and it’s my turn to go

There is one thing that I certainly know,

The love that I have for you is without measure

And you remain in my heart, as a beautiful treasure.

And while dreading to go into a year that is new

I realize each day brings me closer to you.

My Christmas may not have been merry and bright,

But because Jesus came, someday, it will all be made right.

(by author Laura Diehl)

 

If you would like to hear Laura read this poem she wrote click here.

If would like a nice printable copy click here. (This will also allow you to start getting the Weekly Word of Hope email from Laura, from which you can unsubscribe at any time.)

Be sure to share to use the share buttons to pass this on to others who might be touched by it.

 

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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Strength and Stability After Child Loss

After the death of our child our world has been completely shattered and we desperately need strength and stability. In our heads, we know that comes from God, but in our hearts many of His promises can now seem very distant.

Isaiah 61:3 is a familiar verse to many of us, which tells us that God will give a crown of beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and a garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. But did you know there is more to the verse?

It goes on to say, “… that they will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.” (ESV)

I broke this verse down into four parts on a recent episode of the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast, on how I see this applying to us as pareavors.

  1. Being called oaks
  2. Of righteousness
  3. Being planted by the Lord
  4. God being glorified (and our struggles with that within child loss)

I am just going to share my thoughts on one of those here, which is the first one; how we will be called oaks of righteousness. Some versions simply say trees, but it is not just any tree. So, why an oak tree? Let’s look at some of its characteristics.

  • It starts with such a small beginning, a tiny acorn, but it grows to become one of the largest and strongest trees.
  • The growth of an oak tree is very gradual. It can be so slow that you don’t notice it year-to-year. Then suddenly you realize how big it has gotten and how much it has grown.
  • Oak trees go through seasons. In the spring they bud with new growth; in the summer they are full of green leaves; autumn causes the leaves to change color, eventually falling to the ground and leaving a dead-looking tree through the winter.
  • It endures storms, great winds, ice and snow. It also absorbs the sun and the rain. All of this is needed to bring an oak tree to its place of full maturity.

This is an amazing picture of us. We truly can go from our place of deep grief, despondency, despair, hopelessness, and even feeling like we have died ourselves, to being like a fully mature tree, producing fruit.

It starts out so small, and that little acorn has to be buried in the ground. Breaking out of the shell and popping to the surface takes so long that we think it has died. We think we have died along with our child, and they just forgot to bury us. Plus, it can take so long to feel joy and meaning again that it confirms the darkness of our thoughts that we will never get back out into light and life again.

The growth can be so slow that we don’t think anything is even happening.

Even though there is no apparent life in us, we are just dormant for our season of deep grief.

You and I eventually become stronger through the storms, as we continue to soak up any nourishment provided. In that place of maturity, an oak tree buds and blossoms, producing fruit, and so will we, even becoming a place where others can come to for shelter.

Here is something interesting about oak trees that I did not share in the podcast episode. You can find oak trees around the globe growing in all kinds of different soil types, rainfall levels, temperatures, and elevations.

That tells me that no matter the situation of our child’s death (including losing more than one child or your only child, through murder, drug overdose or suicide, a long illness, or completely unexpected) we can get to a place of growing and flourishing again. We can still have a life of meaning and purpose, not in spite of our child’s death, but because of his or her life.

As I said, I shared some personal insights on all four parts of this section of scripture. If you would like to know the rest, listen to episode 184 of the Grieving Parents Sharing Hope podcast on the GPS Hope website, or find it on your favorite listening app. You can also listen on the GPS Hope YouTube channel here.

If you would like to hear what I shared about the beginning of Isaiah 61:3 just click the links below.

180: Can We Ever Have Beauty Again After Child Loss (with Lin Findlay)

182: God Does Not Say He Will Give Us Joy for Our Grief

183: The Heavy Weight of Grief After Child Loss (with Angelique Marketon)

 

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). 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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It’s Been Two Years

 

It’s Been Two Years

Your smile was worth a thousand words
To everyone you knew.
It lit up a room wherever you went,
The love in our hearts grew and grew.

It’s been two years since I’ve seen you,
The days seem never ending.
My Savior, My Redeemer,
It’s on Him I am depending.

There were many trying times,
And hardships along the way.
But your endurance was admired
Each and every single day.

You are the apple of my eye,
The biggest hero I’ll ever meet.
I must lay down my sorrows
At the cross, at Jesus’ feet.

Losing a child, who is part of your soul, 
Will shatter it into pieces.
But each day that passes,
I know my earthly time decreases.

I will be reunited with you again
And see your body pure and whole.
Until then, I just hold on
To God, who is in complete control.

There are still so many questions
That I don’t understand, big and small.
I will remain in this waiting room,
And know God catches me when I fall.

My prayer was urgent, but God said no.
I trust Him anyway.
It’s for His glory and for my good;
I tell myself it will be okay.

Grief feels like you’ve been punched in the gut;
There is no more air to breathe.
To think your sweet precious body
Is in the ground, underneath.

But Jesus knew that day would come,
No more sorrow, no more pain.
Your body was made brand new,
No more suffering, only gain.

You’re in my thoughts every hour,
And when my heart hardens,
I must turn back to God,
Who turns graves into gardens.

Your sweet little hands, I miss,
And even though you didn’t speak a word,
I could understand your soul,
For in your eyes, it was greatly heard.

I’ll always be your mama,
As we are connected heart to heart.
The joy I have to look forward to,
Knowing one day, we will never part.

I must choose to be happy for you.
I’m jealous you’re with the One
Who sacrifices and saves,
For it is finished, it is done.

Written by Fran Rhodes for her son Charlie.

 

 

Do you have a difficult time finding things that bring you comfort? We have put together a list of thirty ways on how to bring yourself comfort and take care of yourself after the death of your child. We know God is the ultimate comforter, but it can help when we know how to give Him something to work with and to flow through. 
Let us know below if you would GPS Hope to send you this list. You will also begin to receive a Weekly Word of Hope, that is easy to unsubscribe from if you no longer want to receive it.


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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Deep Grief Leaves Deep Scars

When we are deeply wounded, a scar is left behind. That happens both physically and emotionally.

When I was around three years old, my dad took my sister and me on a bike ride around the neighborhood at my grandma’s house. We had done it before. My sister was sitting behind him, and I was sitting in front of my dad as he was pedaling the bicycle. This one time, when he turned the wheel, I didn’t spread my legs far enough and got my ankle caught in the bike spokes. It took out a chunk of my ankle, and I ended up with a staph infection.

It took me out of commission for quite some time, and I didn’t get to play in the water that summer. I had to sit on the edge of the pool with my injured ankle wrapped in a plastic bread wrapper to make sure it stayed dry. We have a picture of me dangling my non-injured leg in the water while watching my sister and cousins splash around having fun.

I recovered, but I still have a scar on my ankle and always will.

At age forty-eight, my husband, Dave, ended up having quadruple bypass surgery. Recovery took a long time, and over ten years later he still has some effects from it and is on certain medications for the rest of his life. He also has a permanent scar, reminding us what he went through.

If you have been connected to GPS Hope for very long, you know that my daughter, Becca, had her leg amputated when she was only three years old because of bone cancer. (She died at age twenty-nine due to long-term heart damage from one of the chemo drugs given to her at that time.) Obviously, she had a scar on her stump from the amputation.

Becca’s missing leg can be a good illustration for to us, as bereaved parents. Having our child die is like having an amputation; a part of our very being has been cut off from us. The wound is severe, but it will eventually heal, but there will always be a scar, reminding us that a part of our very being is missing.

But the comparisons don’t stop at the scar of the injury.

Did having a staph infection in my ankle keep me from ever riding a bike or swimming again? No way! I loved riding a bike, especially as a kid (although I recently switched to enjoying riding my mini Segway) and I love to swim and be in the water, especially in warm places with beautiful beaches.

Did having quadruple bypass surgery keep Dave from permanently doing things like holding and playing with his grandchildren, or starting new adventures like selling our house and learning how to drive a 38-foot motor home that we now live in? Nope!

Did having an amputation keep Becca from running and playing with the other children? No, it definitely did not! It may have slowed her down and caused her to adapt to how she ran and how she played, but it didn’t stop her.

When these horrible things happen, including something as terrible as the death of our child, does it mean our life is over, and we will never be able to live a full life again? No, it doesn’t.

We need time to go through a “recovery” process (for lack of a better word) and need time to learn how to function with our child no longer here, but it doesn’t mean we will never be able to function again.

  • We will go through times when everyone around us is splashing and playing while we are unable to participate because of our wounds.
  • We will go through times when we can’t function and have to wait for more healing.
  • We will go through times when we have to adjust the way we do things.
  • We will forever bear the scar of our tragedies.
  • We will always have things that trigger reminders.

But we are not permanently injured to the point of being out of commission for the rest of our lives.

Our lives will never be the same. We will never be the same. But within that, we can make sure the tragedies in our lives are not wasted by leaving us incapacitated. And that includes the tragedy of the death of our child.

We can allow God’s love to wash over us, to heal us, and to take this change in us and use it against the enemy who brought death into this world.

And just think, all of our scars will disappear someday, both the physical ones and the emotional ones, when we join our children in that place where there is no more pain, no more sorrow, and all of our tears will be wiped away.

But until then, we need to remember…

Wounds heal so that we can continue living. Yes, our scar reminds us of what happened, of who was cut off from us, but it also reminds us that our life isn’t over. There is still more living to do, if not for yourself, then at least for those who love you and still need you in their lives, and for your child who is no longer here.

We can (and need to) learn to live with our scars in a way that honors our son or daughter, not in spite of our child’s death, but because of his or her life.

 

Are you looking for glimpses of hope in the suffocating darkness of grief after the death of your child? Join over 1,000 other parents who get a word of hope delivered directly to them every week. (You can easily unsubscribe when you no longer need the encouragement.)

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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