A Mourner's Needs

We will all experience sorrow at some point in our lives. Some may lose a close friend, others may lose a parent, a sibling, or a child, and others will have sorrow over a loss of things they held dear. What would you need at that moment in life? What could others do to show love and support? I'm no expert on this subject, as I'm still navigating through the murky waters of grief, but I have learned through the last few months that for everyone the "need" is different. But, I can say without question, the answer is never "nothing."

Nothing implies, just that, nothing. It implies there is no value in the person or the source of their sorrow. It opens up new wounds in an already raw flesh. Of course, I know this isn't true, but Satan can squeeze his way into these sad lonely moments and tell you that no one cares. Even with others surrounding you, grief can leave you feeling totally isolated.

I don't think anyone can predict what they will need until you are in the midst of grief. For me, I needed to be surrounded by people to keep me from crumbling. I was afraid to be alone because that was when I was at my weakest.  It's in the quite times that I let my thoughts race and the tears flow. I am so blessed that I had people around me doing whatever they could to take care of my family and me during the last few months. Meals would show up on our doorstep, gifts for the kids were delivered, cards arrived in the mail, my phone rang every day, and friends would just drop by to check on us.

It's so hard to know what a person needs during those dark days. So what should we do when we just don't know? The answer is ANYTHING. Anything you can do to show that you love them and that you are there for them. Pray and ask God what you can do for them. Pray that God will use you to show His love and grace to those that are hurting. I saw the Lord working through others and meeting our greatest needs during our darkest moments.

I know that there are those that will say they want nothing and that their desire is to be left alone. While they may not want anyone sitting next to them, I can guarantee that they correct response is not to leave them alone. Pray for them, send them cards, or leave messages to let them know you remember them and love them.

I will end this post by saying that it can be so easy to send a text message these days, and consider our job done. But please know that for a grieving person, they might need more. There is a level of intimacy and compassion that is lost in simply sending a text to show you care. Somehow in the last decade with smart phones and social media, we have veered off the path of closeness in relationships and truly meeting others needs. I know I'm personally guilty of that. Prayerfully consider what God would have you do to extend His love to others. 

Letting the Enemy In

The last couple of weeks I have struggled. Most of my moments are what others would define as "normal." I can make it through the daily routine without cratering. But, at the most random moments, when I let my guard down, the Enemy enters the scene. He tells me that I did nothing to save my son. He tells me that I am not an adequate mother. He tells me that I should be ashamed of our decision.

You see, my husband and I made a conscious decision, several weeks before Thatcher was born, to provide only comfort care for our son. It is a decision that was made out of love for our unborn child. We didn't want to put him through medical procedures and surgeries knowing that it would likely not change the outcome. His tiny extra chromosome had created chaos in his body and his breathing, feeding and heart were all affected.

As mothers and fathers, we will stop at nothing to take care of our children. But, when nothing will keep that extra chromosome from claiming the life of your child, what can you do? We chose to cry out to the Lord and allow His will to be done with Thatcher. We had to loosen our grip on our child and trust the Lord fully with his life...no matter what that looked like. It was a heartbreaking, yet freeing, decision.

Satan loves to use things in our life that we fully entrust God with to try and diminish our faith in Him. I am no stronger than any other person, and I have allowed Satan to steal moments. I have allowed his voice to enter in and wage war on my soul. I had one of these moments today while driving home from school. The tears began to flow as I thought of our time with Thatcher. Why didn't I request more care? Why didn't I save him? Then, I heard Hunter from the back seat: "Why are you so sad about Thatcher, mom? I wish he were still alive, too, but he's in heaven." And there, in my all-too-wise four-year-old is the voice I need. The voice reminding me that our decision was right for our son, even though it hurts.