Eight months, seven days. Too short for a life. Long enough to change one.
Eight months, seven days. Too short for a life. Long enough to change one. Only parents understand this place in our hearts, in our souls, that gets bigger as our children grow. When life stops, the hallowed space stops being filled, but it continues to expand. I, like most, if not all parents who’ve walked this path, have no idea what to do with those expanding empty spaces. For a time, I used to wear her loss on my sleeve like an insignia of rank that set me apart. The insignia was a sign of pain. If I couldn’t feel her anymore, at least I could feel the pain. It made her real when the fog of time started to erode and fade her from memory. Now, if asked, I stay silent unless I sense her story might serve a purpose. I listen to the parents talk of the challenges, the struggles of the living, of the loud, and of the silence. This is that story; from life, to death, to standing alone and empty, beyond comfort, beyond all familiarity. Then back again, in the midst of the darkness, to hope.
A note from the author.
Author, Coach, Speaker, Pilot, Family Man
AUTHOR, SPEAKER, COACH
I’m a follower of Jesus and I walk a crooked road. I’m not alone in that, but I come from a people who cling to the highway. When I lost my daughter, when my marriage fell apart, the ‘highway faith’ stopped working for me. My life careened onto some twisty back roads. I felt more alone than I needed to over the years, thinking I had disqualified myself from finding God. Along those back roads I’ve gotten glimpses of Him, in the ‘real’, in the messy, and in the places without answers. Is it still hard? Yes. Do I still struggle? Yes. That is part of life. What I’m learning is that God is bigger than the boxes we put Him in, and He’s not afraid of our pain. If you’re afraid you can’t belong to Him, because you don’t fit into a ‘highway faith’. I’m here to offer hope, without erasing the reality of your pain. If life has torn out your footings through grief, through loss, through struggle, know that you’re not alone.
I'd love to talk with you about all things grief, growth and transformation. Hope to talk soon.
