I love Humans of New York. I love that in the sharing of the wins of life, these are real posts about real people and their real thoughts and reality.
One post really struck me. It was two parents sharing about their boys who died in a 6 part series. They said, "after the boys died, we never thought we'd be happy again ... (but) 'happy now' is different than 'happy then,' but we do feel happiness again.
This profound statement. In the height of tragedy it can be hard to see a way out. But as time necessarily moves on, you find a new way. This understanding that being happy now is different than being happy before opens up grief to a new level. It brings freedom to finding a new way of living. It brings freedom to never letting go of those we love, but learning to live without them. It brings freedom to moving on without moving past.
Shortly after we lost Levi the movie, "Inside Out" came out. It struck a chord with me. The freedom of feeling two emotions in a single moment was an eye-opener. I finally felt like I could feel my emotions fully - not having to deny one to feel the other.
Happy now for me is significantly different than happy before.
Wednesday, 7 December 2016
Friday, 18 November 2016
Walk a Mile
My husband and I have the same size feet. We can literally walk a mile in each others shoes. But I don't walk in his shoes.
I don't walk his path. My path is so much easier to understand.
I worked alongside my husband one day this summer. It pushed me to have more than a glimpse of his path. At the end of the day, I had a much better understanding of him. He did the same thing with me. He walked my path for a day. And we understand each other more deeply now.
I don't walk in other people's shoes because they aren't comfortable, not my style, not my choice. But taking that time to step into them brings clarity and empathy that would be absent otherwise.
We also have to let people walk in our shoes.
Something profound happens when we let others see our path. You learn shared commonality, pain. When we allow our shoes to be walked in, we allow others to do the same. Being vulnerable creates space for healing and understanding. We have heard more stories of loss since sharing our story than ever before.
By sharing our shoes, we invite others to share their shoes; their hurts, their pain, their triumphs, their joys. We can bring meaning to their life, their story, their path.
None of us are called to the same path, but we can learn so much by walking alongside others on their path.
I don't walk his path. My path is so much easier to understand.
I worked alongside my husband one day this summer. It pushed me to have more than a glimpse of his path. At the end of the day, I had a much better understanding of him. He did the same thing with me. He walked my path for a day. And we understand each other more deeply now.
I don't walk in other people's shoes because they aren't comfortable, not my style, not my choice. But taking that time to step into them brings clarity and empathy that would be absent otherwise.
We also have to let people walk in our shoes.
Something profound happens when we let others see our path. You learn shared commonality, pain. When we allow our shoes to be walked in, we allow others to do the same. Being vulnerable creates space for healing and understanding. We have heard more stories of loss since sharing our story than ever before.
By sharing our shoes, we invite others to share their shoes; their hurts, their pain, their triumphs, their joys. We can bring meaning to their life, their story, their path.
None of us are called to the same path, but we can learn so much by walking alongside others on their path.
Saturday, 15 October 2016
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart)
i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet)
i want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
-ee cummings
my heart)
i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet)
i want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
-ee cummings
Friday, 16 September 2016
Process
Music pressing into my ears, this is the way I process. World shut out, words pouring in. Time to stand back, reflect, and listen.
And may this hope that reaches to the depths of human need
Be the song that I sing in joy and suffering
Drowning out all else, the words seep in and take hold. When the world is swirling and spinning, it is easy to mishear His voice, to doubt His presence, love and to cast aside His promises.
It might seem there's an ocean in between
But He's holding onto you and me
Blurred vision, I cease movement. Tears stream as I listen to the words.
How deep, how wide the love
That pierced His side, the love
Redemption's mine, oh love
That will not let me go
When the confusion takes over, when the questions become roars of doubts in my mind, steps backward are forced. To soak in the truths I know in my head but have forgotten in my heart.
When You don't move the mountains I'm needing You to move
When You don't part the waters I wish I could walk through
When You don't give the answers as I cry out to You
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!
Brutal love and grace that holds on. Even when my thoughts are confused, my feelings unsure, He is sure, steady.
If I told you my story
You would hear life overcome the grave
**Laura Story, Love & the Outcome, Lauren Daigle and Big Daddy Weave's words**
And may this hope that reaches to the depths of human need
Be the song that I sing in joy and suffering
Drowning out all else, the words seep in and take hold. When the world is swirling and spinning, it is easy to mishear His voice, to doubt His presence, love and to cast aside His promises.
It might seem there's an ocean in between
But He's holding onto you and me
Blurred vision, I cease movement. Tears stream as I listen to the words.
How deep, how wide the love
That pierced His side, the love
Redemption's mine, oh love
That will not let me go
When the confusion takes over, when the questions become roars of doubts in my mind, steps backward are forced. To soak in the truths I know in my head but have forgotten in my heart.
When You don't move the mountains I'm needing You to move
When You don't part the waters I wish I could walk through
When You don't give the answers as I cry out to You
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!
Brutal love and grace that holds on. Even when my thoughts are confused, my feelings unsure, He is sure, steady.
If I told you my story
You would hear life overcome the grave
**Laura Story, Love & the Outcome, Lauren Daigle and Big Daddy Weave's words**
Sunday, 21 August 2016
Facebook Group
Strangers, we joined the same group to journey together. Feeling a bit silly, I almost leave, but something keeps me involved. Connection, interaction, laughter, tears, drama, it was all there. We were due in the same month, lived in the same country. Those were the only requirements. Some left early due to miscarriage, to which all of us were sad, yet also breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't us. The rest of us carried on through nine months of changing bodies, growing babies, and the myriad of issues those things bring out. Most of us only knew each other through the screen, a few met in person. Yet this group of ladies rallied around a mother who delivered her twins prematurely, sending a care package to the hospital for her. Strangers, holding each other through the greatest and hardest life transition I have experienced. Something incredible happens when you make a connection with someone, even if you've never met face to face.
Days after our sweet Levi was stillborn, I announced I was leaving the group. As much as I enjoyed the support and laughs, it would be too hard to watch all these babies grow when I wasn't able to watch mine grow too. Comments, messages and love were overwhelming from these ladies. I sobbed through many sweet words of sadness and encouragement. Ladies I had never met, but something was there.
A year later, a member contacts me again to see how we are doing as we approach his still birthday . Thoughtfulness. Knowing we weren't forgotten. Kindness. It touched me. And then a package came. A ring with a sweet inscription. Meaningful. LIS 5:18. His initials. The reference on the thankfulness verse I had shared. Deeply moved, I cried in thankfulness. Then came another package. A frame with a meaningful quote. "Once you are Real, you can't become Unreal again. It lasts for Always." The Velveteen Rabbit. How incredibly deep. I wondered for days who it was from, starting to write a note to the sender for more information. But a message online prompts me to open the frame, and I find signature after signature of the ladies I was in the group with. Both unexpected gifts from these moms who hadn't forgotten us.
Connection, no matter how small, is meaningful. I will never forget the kindness of these ladies. They spoke into our pain and validated our suffering. A group of strangers, bound by a similar journey. And I am forever thankful.
(If you are reading this and are a Canadian June Birth Mom, I thank you.)
Days after our sweet Levi was stillborn, I announced I was leaving the group. As much as I enjoyed the support and laughs, it would be too hard to watch all these babies grow when I wasn't able to watch mine grow too. Comments, messages and love were overwhelming from these ladies. I sobbed through many sweet words of sadness and encouragement. Ladies I had never met, but something was there.
A year later, a member contacts me again to see how we are doing as we approach his still birthday . Thoughtfulness. Knowing we weren't forgotten. Kindness. It touched me. And then a package came. A ring with a sweet inscription. Meaningful. LIS 5:18. His initials. The reference on the thankfulness verse I had shared. Deeply moved, I cried in thankfulness. Then came another package. A frame with a meaningful quote. "Once you are Real, you can't become Unreal again. It lasts for Always." The Velveteen Rabbit. How incredibly deep. I wondered for days who it was from, starting to write a note to the sender for more information. But a message online prompts me to open the frame, and I find signature after signature of the ladies I was in the group with. Both unexpected gifts from these moms who hadn't forgotten us.
Connection, no matter how small, is meaningful. I will never forget the kindness of these ladies. They spoke into our pain and validated our suffering. A group of strangers, bound by a similar journey. And I am forever thankful.
(If you are reading this and are a Canadian June Birth Mom, I thank you.)
Sunday, 31 July 2016
At least
Four months before my high school graduation, I along with my family, watched as my dad breathed his last. We were devastated. We saw it coming months ahead of time, but that didn't ease the heartache we felt and still feel.
Nothing eases the depth of pain when someone loved dies. Yes we can (sometimes) take hope in the resurrection but that doesn't take away pain. No statements like, 'at least you had time to prepare', 'at least it was swift', 'at least you can get pregnant', 'at least you already have one son'.
No 'at leasts' lessen the empty ache.
(After I shared this with my husband months ago, he was reminded of a video he watched in one of his classes by Brene Brown - https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=1Evwgu369Jw )
Nothing eases the depth of pain when someone loved dies. Yes we can (sometimes) take hope in the resurrection but that doesn't take away pain. No statements like, 'at least you had time to prepare', 'at least it was swift', 'at least you can get pregnant', 'at least you already have one son'.
No 'at leasts' lessen the empty ache.
(After I shared this with my husband months ago, he was reminded of a video he watched in one of his classes by Brene Brown - https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=1Evwgu369Jw )
Sunday, 10 July 2016
Small
When grieving, holidays, birthdays and anniversaries are anticipated hard times.
What can’t be anticipated are the small moments, the unexpected comments, the emotions that suddenly arise.
When signing cards and realizing you’re still only signing three names; when a stranger asks about a sibling for your cute little boy; when your son says he misses him. These are the times that can’t be anticipated. These moments of grief are the ones that pick away at a person, the slow chiseling.
Big moments, times that are expected are a strong force for grief, in remembering, in sadness, and hopefully in healing. But these small moments, the ones unnoticed by anyone else are the undercurrent of grief work.
What can’t be anticipated are the small moments, the unexpected comments, the emotions that suddenly arise.
When signing cards and realizing you’re still only signing three names; when a stranger asks about a sibling for your cute little boy; when your son says he misses him. These are the times that can’t be anticipated. These moments of grief are the ones that pick away at a person, the slow chiseling.
Big moments, times that are expected are a strong force for grief, in remembering, in sadness, and hopefully in healing. But these small moments, the ones unnoticed by anyone else are the undercurrent of grief work.
Tuesday, 28 June 2016
Manna
Manna. Given daily. Always enough. Often too much. Never to be stored, stock piled or squirrelled away. A promise for sustainment. A requirement of trust.
Grace. Strength. Mercy.
Given daily. Always enough. Often too much. Never to be stored, stock piled or squirrelled away. A promise of sustainment. A requirement of trust.
His mercies are new each morning.
He gives us strength each day.
This is how we walk the grief road. One day at a time. One ration of manna a day.
Grace. Strength. Mercy.
Given daily. Always enough. Often too much. Never to be stored, stock piled or squirrelled away. A promise of sustainment. A requirement of trust.
His mercies are new each morning.
He gives us strength each day.
This is how we walk the grief road. One day at a time. One ration of manna a day.
Saturday, 25 June 2016
Silence
My silence was unintentional.
Months of processing, living in the moments, and more transitions meant less time for sharing. But as my silence dragged on, it caused me to ponder; our story, our struggle and journey, others' encouragement, others' similarities and paths, and how these things all intersect. Which led me to the question of openness.
And so it is that I share this blog publicly.
We are still in the midst of pain and maneuvering a new path. We are not at the end, nor will we reach the end. This is our continuous story of healing, struggle and hope. If our story can be of an encouragement to you, or bring you closer to Him, then we are thankful for that.
If you are new, start here.
Months of processing, living in the moments, and more transitions meant less time for sharing. But as my silence dragged on, it caused me to ponder; our story, our struggle and journey, others' encouragement, others' similarities and paths, and how these things all intersect. Which led me to the question of openness.
And so it is that I share this blog publicly.
We are still in the midst of pain and maneuvering a new path. We are not at the end, nor will we reach the end. This is our continuous story of healing, struggle and hope. If our story can be of an encouragement to you, or bring you closer to Him, then we are thankful for that.
If you are new, start here.
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