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Picture: of Grief

Ha. Socks & sandals. Mama didn’t dress this girl for the party. But hey, when you’re just 3 weeks postpartum being dressed is an accomplishment.

It’s a darling photo of a darling family. It would seem that simple. But it’s not.

Something I combat as a grieving mother (yes, grief is an ongoing process) is envy or pride or something like that. When I see pictures of other happy people in their happy place….. and know that they’ve never experienced tremendous pain or loss or heartache and that their life really is just about that simple….. I scroll past the picture.

Because when I look at my pictures I see people who came to a place of tender comfort from the trenches of battle. I see faces that smile though they were sullen, sore saddened shoulders that have been raised upright again, arms that envelop two precious lives… and ache for the other precious child. I see people who have suffered and wept and torn their hearts out and bloody beat the ground with woeful words to God. I see people who have a story that’s dug deep & long gnarled roots into the ground of God’s truth in order to be a tree of life still standing.

When we are grievers of great loss, we tend to think that others don’t understand our pain or that they’re proud of their own painless life. It’s easy to misjudge. And it’s easy to be misjudged. So when you look at my sweet family know that it has been built up by Christ alone, because we would not be here today if it weren’t for him; when you look at my dear family know that it continues to suffer the effects of trauma & grief, because the sudden horrible death of a child never leaves the memory or the heart; when you look at my precious family know that it’s come at a great cost and that life is short and that God is there with them.


In the hands of the potter,

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