Be The Gift

Be the Gift by Ann Voskamp teaches us how to let our brokenness be turned into abundance. 
    This is such a beautiful hardcover book with bookmark ribbon, stunning photography, journaling space and kindness prompts. But most of all the short devotionals speak to me greatly.
   As Voskamp says in the introduction; "This world is beautiful - but this world is broken. And the suffering is all around us...in us."
   This is so, so true. Aren't we all broken in some way or another? Hasn't life dealt each of us some type (or several types) of blow that affects us greatly? 
   Voskamp writes "Even in the depths of our own brokenness - actually, because of the depths of our own brokenness - God can use each of us to be a gift to another broken heart. 
   To be the broken and brave who know that when the stakes are highest, kindness matters most. 
   Even the smallest seeds of kindness can begin to break the worst kind of brokenness.
   What if we could be compassionate with each other, co-suffer with each other - so that we could be part of the healing of each other?"

  Voskamp also points out that time is fleeting and that our chance at change is now. Pages 70-71 ask us "What if instead of waiting for good enough things to happen to us we could be the good things to happen to someone else who's waiting?
   The world is brokenhearted and full of suffering, and if you listen to what life needs instead of what you need from it, you could fill the brokenness with your own brokenhearted love - and this in turn will fill you."

This goes against the grain of the world's thinking. TO DIE TO SELF. And yet that's what Jesus asks of us. "I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." -John 12:24

  I could go on and on but suffice to say that there is great wisdom in this book. I always have a difficult time reviewing Voskamp as I do find her writing to be too poetic, as though she is trying just a bit too hard and it takes something away from the writing. But in this format, short little devotions, time can be taken to read and re-read the message in order to absorb and truly meditate on her words. I found this format to be much easier on the brain.

This book was given to me by BookLook Bloggers in exchange for my honest review.
 

The Alphabet of Grief

The Alphabet of Grief by Andrea Raynor was so much more than I expected. For some reason I find "alphabet books" a bit kitschy but I wanted to give it a chance and am so glad I did. Raynor is a minister and hospice spiritual counselor and you can tell she writes this book with both wisdom and compassion. 

I've found that when you are thrown into grief you sometimes need a map to help you navigate the bumpy roads. It's unbelievable how reassuring it is to see that others have had the same thoughts and feelings before you and that it is all part of a normal grieving process. From topics such as Isolation and Loneliness to Joy, Kinship, and Rainbows (signs from above) this book truly is a comfort with a Christian perspective. I plan on purchasing another copy for myself to keep as I'm passing this copy on to a friend.
 This book was given to me by Blogging for Books in exchange for my honest review.
  
 

Peace In The Face of Loss

I think one of the most helpful things in dealing with grief is meditation and reflection. Peace In The Face Of Loss by Jill Kelly has been one of the most helpful books I've read since losing Jacob close to four years ago. 

 While it is written by a mother who has lost a child and deals a lot with child loss I think it would be great for any type of loss (spouse, parent, sibling, etc.) as it is basically digging into God's word to understand why bad things may (will) happen in our life, how there is a purpose in our pain, how we can lean on God during those times, etc. As a matter of fact, I got so much more than comfort for my grief from this book but also some sound advice for dealing with anxiety, worry, and so on. It is a very comforting and wise book.
   
   I keep very few books after reading them but this will go onto my shelves. I have a small shelf (that is growing in size) of books dealing with loss that I reread or pull one out from time to time to give to a newly grieving person. This book is leather bound and a would make a great gift for someone who has lost a loved one.
 

And Still She Laughs

When I learned of Kate Merrick I knew I had to read her book. Her story and mine are quite similar - both our children were diagnosed at the same age with the same type of cancer, both spent three years battling the monster before passing away, and both of us are trying to find joy in the aftermath. 

And Still She Laughs by Kate Merrick is about a mother trying to find joy within the depths of suffering. Merrick delved into the stories in the Bible of real women who suffered deeply and emerged somehow joyful. This is not a history of Biblical women but rather Merrick weaves a bit of their story within her own, making this a very relate-able story to anyone who has suffered pain (and haven't we all?). 

"We want the blessing of a Christian life but none of the pain. We think twice about diving in, risking love because we might lose it, risking reputation, comfort, all these things we think will keep us safe and happy." (p. 170)

Merrick digs deep into the fact that our culture equates being loved by God by being blessed by Him by receiving the life we ask for. It's the type of thinking that leads so many people to discontentment, and sadly leads people astray from God Himself. If our lives are rough we must not be loved by Him, if our prayers aren't answered in our ways we must not be blessed. While in reality the Bible points out that we must "take up our cross daily" and that the path of a Christian is narrow and hard but that the rewards are worth it. THIS is what Merrick comes to realize while searching the Bible and stories of hardship and pain.

"Choosing to live for eternity is such a game changer. It holds much meaning for the future, yes, but for the here and now it brings with it the ability to laugh. A hundred years ago, when I was in college, my pastor used to say "You do what you believe." He meant that we say much-we talk, talk, talk-but what we do speaks louder. We can talk until we go hoarse, but our actions show what our faith actually looks like.
    If I believe I will see Daisy again, I can grieve, but not as those without hope grieve (1 Thess. 4:13). I can cry and hurt and wail and get it all out, but I can be confident in our future reunion (1 Thess. 4:14). I can wonder joyfully about her and what she's doing. I can picture her in Heaven riding a bear-or any of the crazy animals she loved so much-while eating a juicy mango, wild and free. I can see her meeting new friends and Jesus swinging her around like an airplane. I can trust she is well, she is whole, and she has done more than the things on her bucket list. 
   I believe she is with the Lord. I can rejoice in that, and maybe, if I really think hard about it, I might even be able to laugh."

It comes down to the fact that as children of God, who know that the treasure of eternity awaits us, we can find joy within any circumstance because we know that a reward far better will be ours. That's not to say we can't grieve, but within our grief we can find hope. In our pain we can find purpose. In our trials we can find wisdom.

1 Peter 1:3-8:
3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead,

4 and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you,

5 who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time.

6 In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials.

7 These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.

8 Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, 

 

This is not just for the grieving. As a matter of fact, it's more for any pain and suffering you may have experienced in life. As we all suffer, we all can use this reminder. This book will be going on my shelves to be read time and time again.

 

This book was given to me by BookLook Bloggers in exchange for my honest review.  

It's Not Fair

Someone once remarked (funnily enough, it was in the comment section of this blog!) that "everything in life is a choice". 

Bull.

Somethings in life are chosen for us, things that no one in life would choose. Melanie Dale does a wonderful job in It's Not Fair; Learning To Love The Life You Didn't Choose explaining how sometimes life just happens and we need to go with the flow.

Backed up by scripture and humor, this book digs deep into pain and purpose. I think by chapter two I was hooked when Dale exclaims "It's not fair! This isn't how it was supposed to happen!" and a shiver went up my spine when a whisper in my head said "Maybe this is exactly how it was supposed to happen." 

Who are we to judge what God places in our path? Is an 8 year old boy dying of cancer fair? No. Was there a purpose? Most certainly. 

Dale tells us it's okay to question God. It's okay to not like his answers or his plan. It's okay to tell Him what WE want. We are human, life is not fair, and it downright sucks sometimes. 

What I like most about this book is that while Dale has suffered different types of pain, and the stories from other women in the book are different than mine, the suffering brings us together. On page 149 she writes, "There's commonality in the ways that we fear, and there's commonality in the ways that we fail, and when we partner in pain, it gives way to sharing in the joy as well." 

Partner in pain. THIS. This is why I read books written by those who have suffered tremendous pain and grew from the ashes. This is why I feel an instant connection to other parents who have lost a child. This is why grief retreats work. Why the pain in a strangers eyes can soften my heart towards them. Because when we partner in pain we heal together.

This book touches on so many subjects that one in pain will experience. "All The Feels", "Coping Mechanisms For The Horribly Mangled", "Hell Is Other People...Or Is It Heaven?", "On God, Suffering, And Other Easy Subjects", and "What's Next?". 

This is a book that will be placed on my bookshelf and pulled out during those "woe is me" moments. It will be shared with friends during their tough moments in life. A little laughter and a lot of support is what I found in this book.

This book was given to me by BookLook Bloggers for my honest review.
 

Grieving the Loss of a Loved One

Grieving the Loss of a Loved One; A Devotional of Comfort as You Mourn by Kathe Wunnenberg is written by a mother who knows loss. It's not a cliche "get over your grief" type of book but rather a "I've been there, let me help you through this journey" devotional which lends you support and encouragement during your darkest days.

What I like best about this devotional is that you can turn to the topic that is most fitting for the mood you are feeling that day. Is it anger? Sadness? Is it a special anniversary or holiday? Wunnenberg seems to have hit each mood and memory in this devotional and there is comfort for whatever mood you may be in. 

This would be very comforting gifted to someone who has recently lost someone special. 

This book was given to me by BookLook Bloggers in exchange for my honest review. 

 

Colors of Goodbye

I sometimes wonder if I am a glutton for punishment. There was no mistaking when I picked up Colors of Goodbye by September Vaudrey that it would be an emotional book, after all, it's a memoir of holding on, letting go, and reclaiming joy in the wake of loss. 

I figured it wouldn't be as emotional for me since Katie was older (19) and died in a different way than my own (car accident after an aneurysm). I was wrong. Reading the pain, the memories, the thoughts of a mother who lost a child is just as gut wrenching no matter the age, no matter the way the child passed. As heartbreaking as this book was, it also was deeply healing.

While I recommend this book to anyone who has lost a child or knows someone who has lost a child or someone else close to them, I'd also recommend it to anyone human, as it shows that one can face the ultimate pain in life and still see the good. As Vaudrey points out on page 226: "Life is hard, and tragedy strikes. Also, life is stunningly beautiful. Both/and. But our circumstances do not have the power to steal our joy without our permission. If our purpose, our identity, our sense of God's direction hinged upon a pain-free life, how precarious the world would be. How weak God would be. How few would ever find joy."

"I now knew from personal experience that the same God who allows pain to enter our lives also sends us comfort, His presences, and more strength than we thought we possessed. And with the sorrow, He extends an invitation for the transformation of our character and a richer, wiser appreciation of life."

Vaudrey writes with such passion about Katie and the rest of her family that you fall in love with them all and feel their pain. She digs deep into what a loss such as this can do to a person, to a family, to a marriage. But she also brings hope, as well as perspective. "As much as I hate the answer I got when I prayed for Katie, I can't call foul. God never guaranteed me a lifetime with her. He never promised me any of the blessings I get to treasure every day. He promises us comfort in sorrow, strength when our own fails, inexplicable peace, His presence in storms, and life in all its fullness for those who follow Him - but not a pain-free life. And the things He promises, He delivers."

This is such a beautiful book, both the writing as well as the family pictures and Katie's artwork.

This book was sent to be by Tyndale Publishing in exchange for my honest review.
 

Emotional Fool

My baby turns three today! My little April fool.

Her birthday is a challenge for me. I vividly remember the day that she was born. It was the day of Jacob's Palliative care chemotherapy appointment. The day before I had decided to just send my husband and mom to it as I didn't want to be 70 miles away from home when I was 4 days overdue.

It turns out that my husband wasn't able to go to the appointment either since I ended up in labor that day.

It was a very, very emotional day. I asked my mom to go ahead with the appointment but was so worried about Jacob all day. Would he be nervous being at the clinic with just my mom? Would something be said in front of him that would make him scared? It turned out to be a good day with Grandma for him but knowing that your mom was hearing palliative care information about your sweet boy while you are in labor is a thing you just don't ever forget.

I'm sure that when my mom posted on her Facebook wall that morning that I had been rushed to the hospital by ambulance due to bleeding heavily that many people thought it was an April Fool's Joke. I wish it had been. The doctor  never figured out what caused the bleeding but the OR was on stand-by when I arrived because the first thought was placenta abruptio, which was my thought in the shower and struck a chord of fear in me that I've only felt a few times in my life; hearing about the death of my dad and a couple times throughout Jacob's illness.

Thankfully, little Amy was born perfectly healthy later that day after a couple more slight scares (her heart rate dipping several times, talk of a c-section). 

My husband brought all the kids to the hospital that night to see Amy and all I can remember is as they walked around the corner of the curtains seeing Jacob's face light up with joy at the sight of his little sister. My eyes didn't move from his face - his beautiful little face...because I knew that he has just been at an appointment that was focused on making him comfortable in the months to come. I knew that in one week's time I would be at another appointment getting his hospice set up.  

That is why Amy's birthdays have been fraught with emotions each year. We are so, so blessed with her in our lives, but the memories of the day of her birth are to this day very anxiety-inducing for me. Heart-breaking. 

Last year on Facebook my post was: 

We all went out to eat at Dairy Queen tonight for Amy's birthday. I was feeling sad, thinking that Jacob should have been there and that it isn't the same as a "family" without him. As we were eating I noticed that a teen girl sitting behind us was wearing a Dance Marathon t-shirt (the charity at the U of I Hospital which was a huge part of Jacob's cancer journey. Then as we are pulling out of the parking lot I see a big truck with the word "Jacob's Trucking". Ben still was rolling his eyes at me so I said, "It's so obvious. I bet if you looked outside you would have seen a hummingbird!" He replies, "Like the hummingbird tattoo that the lady sitting by the door had?"
I know Jacob is with us today. And always.

Certain days in this journey are just extremely hard, as I'm sure they will always be. It's just the way it is.
 

Unsolicited

I heard Lady Gaga's song "Til It Happens to You" for the first time yesterday. While it is about sexual assault, the words actually apply to so many situations. It resonated with me deeply as a bereaved mother. I ask all of you to listen to it (unless you are offended with the use of the hell word...though I find it quite fitting for this song).

Having dealt with a sick little boy for two years, and then a terminal one for 8 months, I received a lot of unsolicited advice. Word to the wise: it is not helpful. From being told treatments that WOULD work (go to Mexico!) to being told that I have to take some time for myself (unless you are offering to watch my kids while I do so your words are worthless). Having someone say "Take it one day at a time and enjoy every moment (easy for you to say, your child isn't dying). I could go on and on but my point is that while I remind myself that these comments are usually made with love or concern, they are not helpful. Unless you've been through it, you don't have any idea. The best advice for these situations is no advice at all. Offer prayers, or help, or a listening ear.

Even now, in my journey of grief (which WILL last a lifetime, there is no "getting over" the loss of a loved one), advice sometimes flows from someone's mouth that is more hurtful than helpful. And yet, I SAVOR the advice from other bereaved mothers. "Til it happens to you, what the h*$l do you know" is true.

This applies to pretty much any situation. Unless you've walked a mile in someone's shoes put all your criticisms, judgement, and "advice" aside. When you truly care for someone you will be a support for them, not a thorn in their side.

Now, go listen to this song!       
 

Stillness

This past weekend found me at a Yoga retreat, learning stillness. It was an overnight stay at the beautiful Shalom Retreat Center,
which has such a rich history of being a Motherhouse for sisters and later a boarding school. I walked around the building in awe several times.

The yoga room was relaxing and peaceful. Truly a place to just BE.

It was a spur of the moment decision for me to attend. I know the yoga instructor - she is an amazing woman and I would love to think of her as a mentor but don't feel worthy of that - and when I asked about the retreat next year, thinking it was full for this year, she mentioned having an opening due to a cancellation. The pieces just fell into place for me to be there.  

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." J.R.R. Tolkien 

I was swept off on adventure, beauty, and reflection. It was a much needed time of healing for me. 

"People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within." -Elizabeth Kubler-Ross

The women there each had a story. Each had a beauty of their own, each had compassion and a heart lit from within. 

I'll write more on this soon; I'm still processing my own thoughts on this precious weekend. To really be alone with yourself is the perfect time to connect with God. It makes you realize why so many monks and sisters live a solitary lifestyle. It's funny that just when I was thinking about this my little sister posted this verse on Facebook:  
'Return to me,' declares the Lord Almighty, 'and I will return to you,' says the Lord Almighty. ~Zechariah 1:3
 I never lost God. But I did get better reacquainted with Him this past weekend.

JOY

December has been a difficult month for me. Yesterday morning I prayed for peace, comfort, and joy for my family for the upcoming week.  

 On a walk yesterday afternoon, walking over the bridge, I came to an abrupt halt when I noticed J O Y in the water. Upon closer inspection, it's just a piece of bubble wrap and the letters were where water had pooled on top of the plastic. This photo doesn't even show the real clarity of how perfectly formed the J O Y were. ‪

In the mail I received this handmade card from a dear friend:

"Very truly I tell you, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy." John 16:20

This is the second year that the JOY banner has hung from Jacob's Ladder:

God's little whispers are sometimes easy to miss, His blessings easy to dismiss. A card expressing Joy and Peace for us, the J O Y in the stream. Things I prayed for just that morning. Arriving at the perfect time, in the most unexpected of ways.

"Some things have to be believed to be seen." -Ralph Hodgson
 

Cocoon

This has been my view recently in the evenings. After a full day of school and mommying (this should be a real word. If twerking is now in the dictionary, mommying should be too!) I retreat to the bedroom when hubby arrives home to relax and recharge. It's been a cloudy December, albeit warm, it's been somewhat dreary. I feel as though I've gone into hibernation mode. Twilight the other day gave the outside world a blue hue for a moment. It was beautiful. As well as otherworldly. Perfect for my mood as I once again wrap us up in our own cocoon as another holiday approaches. ‪#‎grieve‬ ‪#‎childloss‬ ‪#‎beautyfromashes‬ ‪#‎viewfromhere‬

5 Years

December 16, 2010 is a date forever seared on my brain. It's the day I posted this onto Facebook:

 "I don't even want to write these words, as they are a mother's worst nightmare. We found a very large tumor in Jacob's abdomen today and the doctor is pretty sure it is a Wilms tumor or something very similar...which in a nutshell is kidney cancer. He has a CT scan tomorrow morning. Please, please pray for him...I don't want my little boy to have to go through this."

It's the day that everything changed.

I think that may be one reason (upon many) that December is such a hard month for me. I relive this day over and over again. 

I'm not looking for sympathy. I'm not having pity parties for myself. Grief is neither of those. It never ends. There is no time limit to it. I will, forever and ever, until I am with Jacob again, miss him.    

I am a bereaved mother. My husband is a bereaved father. My children are missing their brother. That will never change.

It gets old for the people around me, I'm sure. December is supposed to be a happy time. You know, the most wonderful time of the year and all that. Which is exactly one of the reasons that it is the hardest time of the year for those missing someone.

My Grandma used to want to spend Christmas Eve alone. I didn't understand it growing up, as Christmas Eve to my family was gathering together and was more special to me than Christmas Day. Now I understand. Even 5, 10, 15, 20+ years after becoming a widow, she wanted that night to herself. Her ritual was little treats that she saved throughout the year and probably a glass of wine. A darkened room, lit only by the flicker of a candle or the lights on the Christmas tree. A night that used to be filled with her husband, family, and rituals now became a night reserved for memories of those times. I get that so much now.

Five years ago today our world was turned upside down. It can never be the same again. That is the price of love and loss.  
 

An Awful Hole

 
 

Real

I've always loved this quote from The Velveteen Rabbit. Even more so these past few years.

Being immersed in a community of women and men who have lost a child is not something one would choose to do. It's an exclusive club which only the broken, battered, and shattered join. No one wants to be in this club. We all wish we could claw our way out but forever we will be the bereaved parents. Forever.

 The beauty in these people is real. I feel that when a piece of you is in heaven that it does radiate from within. The cracks within your heart illuminate more light than before. It's a catch 22 - we want our children back with all our hearts, but their absence has taught us so much. 

They taught us to be real.
 

Keep Searching

33 degrees means drip, drip, dripping. Nature is decorating my house today.

I love my mama and sisters. Even if one is covering herself with a coat and one seems to be seeing Jesus at the moment this picture was snapped (my sister Rachel is going to kill me!). Such a fun day with us 6 girls and Tim Hawkins.

I laughed almost two hours straight at Tim's comedy. We were only about 8 rows from the front so it was great to see him so up close and personal!

Laughter was some of the best medicine for me this month. November and December are hard months when you are missing someone, especially someone who loved the holidays so much.

  During this month of Thanksgiving, I've been searching each day for the things I'm thankful for. Some days can be harder than others to have a positive attitude. But still I search...

Glittering icicles.

A girls night out.

Laughter.

Love.

 Least you think I'm implying that it's a simple thing, I'm not. There are days when my sorrow, my struggles, my grey clouds can be overwhelming. They can be so heavy. Tiresome. Burdensome.

We all have those days, but I know you grieving mama's know even more so what I am speaking of. Keep searching...even if it's just a

Soft Kleenex.

A fluffy blanket.

One swift happy memory.

It all counts. It is the little things, after all.
 

Grief

Grief is REAL.
It is STRONG. 
It is the price we pay for loving those who are no longer with us.
It is normal.
The only cure for grief is to GRIEVE.

It is okay to not be okay.
There will be good days and there will be bad days.
The pain, the sadness, the loss does not go away. Grief changes, depending on the day, the year, the memory but it will always be with you in one way or another.

It is messy. 
It is isolating. 
It is maddening.
It is painful.
There is only one finish line to grief.

It takes courage to go on. To get up each morning. To put on a happy face. To live without someone you love.

To try to mend that gaping hole in your heart.

The Best Things to Say to Someone in Grief

1. I am so sorry for your loss.
2. I wish I had the right words, just know I care.
3. I don’t know how you feel, but I am here to help in anyway I can.
4. You and your loved one will be in my thoughts and prayers.
5. My favorite memory of your loved one is…
6. I am always just a phone call away
7. Give a hug instead of saying something
8. We all need help at times like this, I am here for you
9. I am usually up early or late, if you need anything
10. Saying nothing, just be with the person

 

You don't back away from a hurting friend.
You don't tell them that they are grieving wrong. There is NO wrong way to grieve.

You show up. You hurt with them. You hurt for them. You see when they are in pain. You try to bind their wounds. You are THERE - in the trenches of grief with them.

That is LOVE. That is healing. That is the only security blanket there is in a midst of pain.