I've never lost a child. I have no idea what it feels like to be the parent of a child who has committed suicide, to grapple with devastating loss compounded by coming up short during inevitable brutal introspection. We have all made mistakes parenting, but not all must come to peace with those mistakes in the face of tragic loss which screams condemnation that pours salt into gaping wounds. I've never lost my spouse. I came close in February 2015 when in the midst of a snowstorm I insisted, by the grace of God, that he let me take him to the ER when his chest pain escalated. It was pulmonary emboli, like buck shot through both lungs with the destruction of an entire lobe. (In celebration of his life, we used the green tubing from months of oxygen therapy as garland on our Christmas tree this year. Ha!) Processing Loss and PainWe all process loss and pain differently. My neighbor lost her husband earlier this year, and every time I drove past her home this month, I remembered that this was her first Christmas alone. I hoped her processing was progressing, and that somehow she was managing to cope. Today I couldn't just drive by again. I stopped to knock on her door, and invited her to Starbucks to talk over coffee. As her tears streamed, I ignored the tables full of cheery patrons around us and entered as fully as I knew how into the pain of another. I couldn't possibly understand. But I do know enough that loving and listening and being there mattered. Her pain brought me back to a time when my daughter was gone from home for nearly six months to attend a boarding school in hopes of instilling some life skills. I missed her desperately and her empty room only amplified the pain of her absence. I would find myself sitting in her room just to smell her pillow, and enjoy as much of her presence as possible. I wrote her letters, and shipped her silly packages hoping to demonstrate how desperately I loved and missed her. At a later time, when she was hospitalized for threat to self, again I sought ways to communicate my heart, understanding that outcome of these battles is not in my hands, and only God knows what we will walk through in the future. Maintaining Hope in the Midst of It AllSo, I've been reflecting on loss and pain and what God offers our hearts in the midst of it all. This week I've been reading through Proverbs and pulling out the portion of verses that speak of the blessings of the righteous in order to pray declarative prayers.
"Righteous". That's how God sees those who embrace the cleansing work of the cross of Christ. God incarnate, God who came in the flesh to make me upright and to clear my name of all those things I've said, been, or done that I've struggled to forgive myself for. Proverbs 11:7 (BBE) says that "At the death of an upright man his hope does not come to an end...". What a promise. Hope I can count on. No matter what.
A healthy person’s response to conflict or pain isn’t usually “I want to die.” It’s “I want this to stop. I want to feel better.” Responding to DepressionBut for those of us who already struggle with the undertone of depression all day every day, stopping seems like an impossibility. Sometimes we just want our constant feeling of sadness to end. And with the idea of getting “better” being an impossibility of chronic illness, well... we jump to mental conclusions. I know, I know. What a depressing train of thought! But that’s why it’s called depression. It’s scary when a loved one, especially a loved one with a history of depression or suicidal tendencies, comes to you with this idea. There’s a whole host of things flying through your own brain in response. “Of course you matter! Aren’t I doing enough to show that at least I care about you?” And of course, “Dying won’t solve anything! Please don’t kill yourself!” It’s tempting to voice all of those thoughts. Ideation vs. Intent
Give Room To Express Without OverreactingSitting quietly on things like catastrophizing internal dialogues, depression spirals, irrational fears, and suicidal thoughts can help cement them in place and give them more power than they should rightfully have. Imagine if every time you tried to express you were feeling bleak everyone around you started crying, shouting, telling you not to die, and trying to take you to hospitals. You’d never want to share again, much less when it was really serious!
Read between the lines. “I’ve been feeling like walking into a road all week” means “This week has been really hard for me.” Listen to and care about that struggle. If you get the opportunity, the best thing I know how to do for my friends is remind them of a simple fact: We don’t actually want to die. Ideation is not intent. Ideation is the formation of an idea and the process of putting it on a pedestal. You Have the Power to Isolate or Put Back on TrackGiving us an alternate perspective is incredibly useful in those times when we’re trapped in a mental circle.
You are the one outside that speeding train of thought, outside the locked track, and outside the rut we’ve wound up in. You are the one with either the power to isolate, or the power to redirect that track and put us back on the path we were looking for.
I like to be “that one” who has shopping done by October and the exterior lights ready at the flick of a switch the night after Thanksgiving. I practice what I have dubbed “being good to myself”. That means I think about tomorrow and do today what will be an assist to me tomorrow. It’s why I don’t rush to grab the vacuum and find the bag full with no back-up special order replacement bags on the shelf. It’s because I ordered them last month, out of kindness. Kindness to me. Three years ago Holy Spirit impressed on me that the years for over the top outdoor lights had come to an end. I love my holiday decor, and every year tried to top the last culminating with the aurora borealis over Santa’s workshop with animated elves and life-size Santa waving from his sleigh. I did not hesitate when I believed I had heard God, because I knew this purge was a difficult directive. I immediately posted for my friends to come and take whatever they wanted out of my garage. Gone. Done. And not a year too soon. I went to India to minister that Fall, and barely got my interior decor up. Last year I was in Myanmar and the Philippines for November. This year it was Indianapolis, Augusta, Cuba, Florida and Dallas, which doesn’t even count the 5 days in Nevada that just happened. Anywhere but Colorado, but for all the right reasons. I’m scrambling to get stocking stuffers, order gifts, and here it is December 14 and my tree still isn’t up.
What's ImportantWhat’s important is that I’m present when my children want to engage. What’s important is that I am kind, both behind closed doors, and out in public when I brush shoulders with others who are harried. What’s important is that I remain discerning, alert to perceive what is happening in the world of others around me who may be hurting or feeling overwhelmed. What’s important is our God who came in the flesh to model, to give His life, and to resurrect rescuing mankind from the fallenness that brings pain and loss, restoring our fellowship with Him.
Eyes on what was important motivated me in the past to be “that one” who had all my candy canes in a row in advance, so that I would have the freedom to breathe easier and keep my focus. This year I am not “that one” just like almost everybody else I know. Even so, what’s important remains. What’s most important, is still most important. Carnage. Far too much carnage. I live in Colorado Springs, home of the Air Force Academy, Focus on the Family, and Pike’s Peak. Colorado Springs is also the town where on December 9, 2007 a gunman opened fired on my church killing two and wounding many others. Most recently, you may remember Colorado Springs for the murders at our Planned Parenthood building. My family has lived here for 18 years. Shortly after we moved to Colorado, on a cold winter’s day, I went around to the back of my house. I attempted to open the six foot gate leading to the space under my deck. There was snow and ice blanketing everything, and as I tried to get the gate open, it was stuck fast. I slammed my body into it. No budge. Something appeared stuck under it. What was that?? It didn’t look right. I took the long way around the house to approach the gate from the opposite direction. Then I identified a grisly truth. An animal had tried to evade capture by darting under my gate, a strategy that had worked for it, no doubt, many times before. But this time, there was a build up of snow and ice under the gate, severely narrowing the passageway. The animal, I believed a cat, got stuck halfway without a moment to spare. A predator grabbed its exposed parts and began pulling, stripping the skin and fur right off the cat’s hind quarters. I felt sickened knowing that the torture must have continued for some time until the predator came up with the same idea I had. Approach the victim from the other side. The cat was then mauled and stripped from his head, all the while remaining stuck fast under my gate, pinned down to endure a gruesome death. It took me weeks after extracting the carcass to deaden the image in my mind of this terrified, suffering cat. It was the only way to avoid perpetual weeping. As an animal lover, it was that upsetting to me. But isn’t deadening the image just what we do when we hear about bodies being blown up in Syria, violence in France, or even our own townspeople getting gunned down in Colorado Springs, or now in San Bernardino? The predator Satan is an authentic enemy behind every evil, far more ruthless than neighborhood coyotes who viciously attack cats. And a real response from us is nearer to the heart of God than disposing of the “carcass” in our own minds in order to move on with our lives unaffected. This same predator is at work in the lives of people you cross paths with every day, not just in sensational atrocities which make headlines. As Christians facing our own profound challenges, we do not get a free pass from engaging with those within our spheres who have been ruthlessly attacked. Satan is not just the enemy of our souls; he is also an enemy of the abundant life our good God wishes to bestow.
Thanksgiving is over. I can breathe deeply, content in the peace that comes from a sense of completion and well-being. Love and joy are the hallmarks of holidays spent with family.
All is well in my world. My circumstances have not changed, but my sense of acceptance has matured right along with the aging of my children with hidden disabilities. My son is approaching his last semester as a senior in high school, shy the credits he needs to graduate. There are other paths to success than academics and glee club. My adult daughter on the spectrum is unemployed, yet chose to forgo the annual family pilgrimage to Texas for feasting with those we all love. By now the cooperative extended family is well versed in questions not to ask that showcase her deficits, and all of us celebrate her remarkable strengths. Nevertheless, anxiety won this year and she remained home in Colorado. We missed her, but nobody batted an eye. Guilt free decision. Yet I remember the days when the activity in our home, the door bell ringing, the festive music, the buzz of the oven timer, the rearranging of the dining room to accommodate more people, and the cheerful voices of guests would almost certainly elicit a meltdown in my daughter. Also elicited was my own deep sense of sorrow when she missed what was supposed to be that magical moment called Thanksgiving Dinner. Learning to topple the idol of ideal in my life changed everything. I look for love, laughter, and shared connections to define well being, setting aside the pursuit of white picket fence living. What's right in your world? Let that define your experience this holiday season and drive your gratitude.
When we think of praying, what typically comes to mind is petitioning God. Our lives and the lives of those we love are filled with spiritual, emotional and practical needs. It’s not wrong to ask. Phil 4:6 (NLT) exhorts us, “Don't worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.” Consider, however, that some of the things we may be asking for, we already have. Scripture is full of statements that are true about us as ones who have committed our lives to Christ. However, those truths may not be manifested in our lives. The disconnect isn’t with the Provider, rather, it may be with our enforcement or with our view of ourselves. I’ll give you a concrete example. It is easy to see the truth that humans are alpha over dogs. Yet many pet owners allow their little fur balls to rule the house. The human may feel powerless to exert rules or boundaries. There is a problem in the way the pet owner views themselves. Can you imagine Fifi’s owner petitioning God for the authority to be boss at home over their pets? They already have the authority!! Declaring What Is Already Ours Through ChristThere is another way to pray in addition to petitioning. It’s called declaration. We declare what is already ours through Christ. Why?
“But when you ask Him, be sure that your faith is in God alone. Do not waver, for a person with divided loyalty is as unsettled as a wave of the sea that is blown and tossed by the wind. Such people should not expect to receive anything from the Lord.” (James 1:6-7 NLT) Increasing faith impacts the measurable results of your prayers!
Have you ever taken a stand at home, declaring over your children, “I’m the mother here. And what I say, goes!”? You get the idea. You were the mother before the statement was made audibly. But declaring the truth of your authority and position over the troops creates greater alignment because of enforcement. Today when you read scripture, keep a pen handy to capture every statement that describes you and those you intercede for as believers. Declare these truths into full manifestation, shifting your realities into closer alignment with the purposes of God. Let’s start with Hebrews 4:16 (NLT), “So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.” PrayerFather,
Even in my failings, I come boldly to Your throne. You are gracious! In the name of Jesus, I declare that in this very moment I am finding Your mercy and grace to help me when I need it most...NOW! I addressed a group of mothers raising children with autism in Havana, Cuba this week. I offered the love of God, and some basic affirming truths taken from Scripture. I shared that even when medical questions are answered, we may still have spiritual questions. One woman had tears streaming down her face as I spoke. A man who doesn't know God approached me afterwards, hungry for more. There is a bond between parents who have faced similar challenges. We understand each other's pain. Isolation alienates, and robs us of hope. The reassurance of "Me too!" is a universal experience that bridges between cultures. And Kingdom culture dictates that we do everything in our power, even travel to far reaches, to offer the comfort of our shared stories and the Light of the Savior of the world. Go bridge some gaps in your world. Your experiences, failures and triumphs, put you in good company with others who are also committed to overcoming. Hearing from you makes their journey a little less difficult through connections that bring hope. Daring life changes. Transitioning seasons of life. I dreamed in the night God was moving us to Massachusetts. Why there of all places? I went through our home, full of all its comforts and marked what we would need with green dots, and blue dots on memory pieces to pack permanently away in a box. Deciding which few pieces to keep felt brutal. The rest was to be liquidated in an estate sale, most of everything we have collected over the years. I woke up with the thought of my little Mexican figurine brought to me by my now 26 year old daughter when she was twelve from her first missions trip, resting unceremoniously on a resale shelf at Goodwill, as though this trinket held no precious value beyond the ceramic. I didn’t like my dream. I am doing life in this season with a woman twenty years my elder, and indeed she is walking through transitions. The loss of her husband. A race run well. The sale of her family home. Foresight. Downsizing, and purging. Unfettered. She is modeling life well for me. Her passion for God and conversational intimacy with Him gives her the courage to face life, and to face the loss of it, and the loss of what has brought comfort in different seasons. If God doesn’t call us to painful transitions, eventually our family will as simplification becomes imperative. Painful does not equate to bad. My daughter on the spectrum turns twenty-four this month. Transitioning into independence has been difficult for her, hindered by mental health challenges and discrimination in the workforce. It never occurred to me I would be losing both her and her younger brother, a whole seven years younger, flying from the nest in the same year. Yet I suspect this is exactly what will happen. Success. Painful success. Painful because transitions are hard, and can feel like loss even when the result is actually gain, a WIN. Definitely a win. |
About MelanieTwo of our three children have Tourette's Syndrome as well as a few other co-morbidities, inherited neuropsychiatric disorders. I'm still happily married, love life and want to share encouragement bringing hope, humor and insight into the process of raising children who are different. Archives
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