Some days the good stuff is the stuff I simply
make myself do.
I dread it, procrastinate, feel my lack of ‘want
to’ in every bone of my body
In my grieving, I get overwhelmed, over
committed, and drained. ME, the EXTROVERT,
wants nothing more than to hide in my closet.
If you have ever seen my favorite movie, “Moms
Night Out”, you can appreciate the <<Stress Paralyzed>> reference. The scene where the mom is so stressed she
can do noting more than sit in the closet, eating chocolate—the whole bag—and watching,
as an eagle waits to hatch its’ young. Yes,
stress paralyzed; it could be a real thing!
Sometimes the anxiety joins hand in hand making
me dizzy. I get so exhausted my brain
starts to shut down. Being anxious causes my legs to hurt and my chest to
ache. It’s amazing how much our mental
health can affect our physical wellbeing.
Yet, I make myself follow through with the
plans I made, if for no other reason than just because I gave my word…
…and then I find myself enjoying it.
I arrive and within the first few minutes the tension
eases. The ‘what was I thinking?’
thoughts start to fade.
I start to feel encouraged. I feel seen and understood by those in my circle. I feel at ease, knowing there is a reason I
am here.
What is that reason?
As a Christian, anything I do should be used as
a light pointing to Christ.
A second reason is that I feel strongly called
that as an older wife and mother, I can impact and invest in women during their
current season of life.
A third, more recent one, is to help other
grieving parents see they are not alone in their grief journey. This last one is near and dear to my
heart. Grief is so lonely, so devastating,
so final.
If I can say, “I know you are hurting, I hurt
with you” then I can offer support.
If my life says, “As terrible as this pain is,
you are not alone” then you know I am here for you.
If my testimony can share that “Even though this
sorrow is deep, you will have joy again in your life” you know the pain is not
the end.
Just like you, my life loss is great, yet I
anticipate there will be more happy days ahead. I often feel that I have lost a
part of my own body, similar to losing my leg.
I can still function, my life will still continue on, yet I will forever
have an aching loss. A place that will always
carry a Millie sized scar.
Through the pain, darkness, tears, and
heartache, it is evident in my life that Jesus is what sustains me. I often say, “I do not know how you live
through losing a child without him”.
Yes, people do it every day, but they often
live the remainder of their lives bitter.
They have no hope beyond their child’s grave… it is a sad desperate
place to be.
With Jesus, I have a promise for an eternal
life with him. A life that includes
seeing my child again. A live that is the fulfilment of hopeful anticipation. A life lived in Christ.
~Because of Millie~
Blessings sweet friends…
︵‿︵‿୨☆୧‿︵‿︵
☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★
I still believe in Millie’s Miracle
☆｡･:*:･ﾟ Hebrews 11:1 ｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
︵‿︵‿୨☆୧‿︵‿︵
#MilliesMiracle
#ChildhoodCancer
#Neuroblastoma
#MoreThen4
#Childloss
#Forever3
#WithJesus
#WhileWeAreWaiting
#AGrievingMama
#LifeAfterLoss
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