Posts Tagged: grief

Shared Grief

Shared Grief

Shared grief sometimes comes when you aren’t expecting it. I am passionate about poetry because it is a way of observing truth and looking at it from different angles. The psalms are some of the most used scriptures in the Bible. Why? Because we understand what it feels like to have our bones broken. Our hearts often cry out, “Where are you, God?” Poetry is a chance to be honest with our suffering, to speak truth over the pain, and to remember that God is not silent or distant.
Maxine and I met at a writer’s conference. We were strangers, yet grief bonded our hearts as we cried out to Jesus for the things we could not control or understand. You never know how your life will touch another. Share your story. Hope is needed, and your unique testimony may be just what someone else needs to keep turning their page through the darkness of deep sorrow.
“For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known” (1 Corinthians 13:12, ESV).
your grief, my grief
your tears, my dry eyes
death, near-death, despair
dirt crusted divine hands created
reached out to receive, retrieve His beloved
                                               — Maxine Composto  10/25/23
Bio: Maxine Composto holds a Master’s Degree in Human Relations. She is a Certified Bereavement
Specialist and a retired Executive Assistant. Retirement has given her the freedom to pursue her
lifelong love of learning and passion for writing. She won first place for Flash Fiction in Word
Weavers’ 2024 Tapestry Writing Contest. When she is not writing she is crocheting baby beanies
for a Pregnancy Center in Central Florida.
For more resources on shared grief:
Broken Butterflies is an opportunity
to cry out in your pain like the psalmist.

Squeezing Life Out of Empty Vats

And Elisha said to her, “What shall I do for you? Tell me; what have you in the house?” And she said, “Your servant has nothing in the house except a jar of oil.”

2 Kings 4:2, ESV

Turning My Page

“It just keeps coming.” I giggled as I squeezed another serving of toothpaste two weeks after the tube was flat and looked as if it was empty. “Keep it coming, Lord.”

I wonder if the widow giggled joyously as she kept filling jars of oil. Life dealt her some harsh blows. Her husband was dead, debts piled up, and creditors were coming to take her two sons to sell into slavery to cover her debts. No one was stepping in to hep.

The widow must have felt desperate. I’ve been in that place where my only choice was to cry out to God. Have you? As I read the scripture I am surprised, no one stepped in to help. Did she have no kinsman reedemer like Ruth? Care for the widows and orphans (fatherless children) was of the utmost importance in Mosaic Law. God himself is called Father to the fatherless.  Her question did not catch Elisha by surprise. His response was simple: How can I help and what do you already have? The widow must have asked others before reaching out to Elisha. Did no one else have pity on her and her sons?

There have been times in my life that God alone has helped me. I have no other human explanation for the provision. But I did have to ask, just as the widow did. What if she never sought Elisha out? I am humbled by her boldness and fortitude. She knew her worth and yet called herself a servant of Elisha. I’ve seen others approach God in the same way. The Centurian on behalf of his servant, the woman with the issue of blood, the possessed man among the graves. As soon as they saw Jesus, they cried out, and Jesus answered.

I want to approach God like the widow! To know that I am priceless and dust at the same time.

God multiplied what the widow had in supply, oil until every last cent she owed was paid off! I bet she and her sons were doing the Happy Dance.

Currently, I have friends in abundance, joys in writing, a roof over my head, and sustenance. If I need anything, I can ask. I am grateful for each of these, but sometimes God gifts reminders that my ultimate provision is him.

While toothpaste is not a dire situation like it was for the widow, it brought delight to me each morning and evening. One, it is God’s sense of humor on full display, and two, he is reminding me that when I think life is empty that he still has so much more for me. Keep filling my life with your goodness Lord!

 

Turning Your Page

God has infinite abundance for you. Remaining open to this truth when everything in your life is empty, disaster seems to threaten you at every turn, and God feels distant and quiet. can daunt the sturdiest believer in Christ. It has rattled Old Testament and New Testament followers of Yahweh throughout droughts of obedience. Have you cried out, Consider your servant, Lord?” Consider, means, to take into account.

God has always been aware of your needs, are you aware of your need for him? Sometimes he allows all other avenues of help to dry up so that we know that he alone has the answers we seek. Like the widow:

  • Serve humbly
  • Cry out
  • Know that God will provide
  • Obey his directions

The widow didn’t hold some super religious card that receives a divine answer from God. All who believe in him can cry out and receive an answer, pressed down and running over (Luke 6).

 

Lord, you are my kinsman redeemer. Fill my vats to overflowing so that others may see our most desperate needs are filled by you. Amen

A Griever’s Wish List

Sit here. In quiet
uncertainty, just be
present. Hold
me with your tears. Know my
pain when you don’t have to.
Listen. I’m not alone.
Your heartbeat, your inhale and
exhale, remind me that I can bear
this weight of losing. Sit here.

It’s enough.

Roses of Hope Beyond Your Grave

 But let me tell you something wonderful, a mystery I’ll probably never fully understand. We’re not all going to die—but we are all going to be changed. (1 Corinthians 15:51 The MSG, Biblegateway)

My son’s birthday and Mother’s Day are irrevocably intertwined. He is my firstborn. The one who taught me both the joys and sorrows of motherhood. I am very intentional about May. I don’t want to forget that as much as eight birthdays without Jonathan hurts, the joy of living these almost nine years with Christ shows me hope is not diminished by the grave.

Turning My Page

Your birthday and motherhood are intertwined
like a wild rose around my heart.
The barrier of death pricks to marrow. Yet, the
sweet fragrance of Hope, salve to my sorrow,
grows tangible beyond the thorns of your grave.

 

Turning Your Page

Think of a moment when something you hoped for became a reality. Did you know for sure that it would happen?

Hope is tangible, and the more we grow to know the character of God and his son, the stronger and sweeter the fragrance of hope. In Christ, hope is never fickle, no matter how many thorns we experience to the contrary.

  • List as many moments where hope was realized as you can. Look at the qualities of your hope. What made you confident that the thing you hoped for would happen?
  • Look up a few attributes of God. How does each characteristic make hope in Jesus more concrete?

Lord, I don’t always see the roses growing among the thorns of my circumstances. Teach me to recognize your ways so that I can see beyond this temporary life. Amen

Sparrow Falls

Not Even Sparrows Fall: Suicide

Sparrows Fall: Suicide

Not even a sparrow falls without God’s knowledge and we are more precious than they. Oh, one day, I pray that I embrace this truth with the depth and security of one who trusts God no matter what I experience in this life. I’m not there yet. As the poem reflects this was a tear-streaked day. I have witnessed God’s care over and over, but I still don’t understand why he allowed Jonathan to die by suicide. Bottom line, I just want Jonathan here.

Turning My Page

I wanted your heart to heal from
the world’s unrelenting fists of hatred.
I tried to shield you, but their blows penetrated
to marrow. Broke bone and spirit without pity. They
meant to crush you—rob identity.
Rearranged home until
you no longer recognized love or belonging.

I thought if I cradled your heart
enough with my love, that somehow, someway
you’d emerge from despair.

But, control
of your rhythm was never mine. Your
soul was formed and shaped by a God
who knit you together in my womb.
On my knees I plead that His will be
done in your life—from beginning to end.

“DO SOMETHING!” I screamed at a
God who was not deaf to my desperation.

He comforted. He still comforts,
but I will not pretend to understand
why He didn’t rescue you.

Your future—my future—was never
mine to determine. And I pray
one day I walk this path knowing
that not even a sparrow falls to the earth
without God’s knowledge.

Your life mattered, and heaven
mourned you even deeper than I.

Turning Your Page: When Sparrows Fall to Suicide

You may have sparrows who have fallen in your life. Your mourning may be deep and waves of emotions swamp you.  Courage! May the promise of God’s care sustain you, even when the feelings simply are not there. You are precious to God. Your loved one was and is precious to a God who was willing to suffer with and for you. As you think about Easter consider the following:

  • “When we were utterly helpless, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners” (Romans 5:6, NLT).
  • “When He saw the crowds, He was moved with compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (Matthew 9:36, BSB).
  • “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father” (Matthew 10:29, ESV).

Lord, this sorrow is too great. Carry it for me. Your tenderness and mercy towards my loved ones exceed my own and not one of them falls to the earth without your knowledge and mourning. Amen

 

Further Resources

Rob’s Kids is an excellent resource for children who have lost a parent.

 

Freedom Starts Hope

Freedom Starts With Hope

Freedom starts with hope. Realizing the power of trust, belief, and faith inherent in the word has kept me reaching out and allowing others to reach in no matter the crisis. I have been struggling lately. Sometimes, I forget to keep my hope in Jesus and start looking to others or my own ways of self-medicating. These are moments. Despair has an end, and knowing that I can turn from sin and embrace the truth of God’s promises, come what may, has kept me reaching out and allowing others to reach out.

For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.

Romans 8:20-21 ESV

 

Turning My Page: Freedom Starts With Hope

Hope.

I have struggled to write for months, and the excuses have piled up.

  • My house is a mess
  • I’m not sleeping
  • My physical health is deteriorating
  • Grieving my grandmother
  • I am a burden to others

This week, the Holy Spirit interrupted my unconscious mantra and reminded me that I have a vast vocabulary. Start with one word: HOPE. Moving beyond writer’s block, depression, or any other block in my life starts with HOPE.

I may not immediately see the fruits of my hope, but the seeds exist. I write one word, and then another, and another, and before long, I am looking back at the obstacle rather than having it firmly planted in front of me.

My hope in all things is found in Jesus Christ, so yesterday and today, I confessed my depressed state and tuned my heart to my Savior’s voice through scripture.

  • Worked on memorizing Romans 8
  • I prayed for my family, who is grieving the loss of our grandmother
  • Acknowledged I am substituting food and mindless activities for the comfort of Christ in my grief
  • I went to bed and trusted that God would give me the needed rest
  • Set healthy boundaries with my children
  • I chose a few small ways to attack the mess of my home
  • Rested
  • Fasted

One of the first things the Spirit of Despair attacks is the healthy habits I form.

Notice my list above. I stopped having time in scripture. The house was a deep hole of undone chores, so why try? I avoided grief through food and TV. While these things give me temporary relief, they will never give me lasting help or draw me from the pit of hopelessness because I will always need more and more of those things and accomplish nothing by escaping through them. They do not feed me, mind, body, and spirit.

I know this because at age twenty, I almost succeeded in taking my own life. That moment was the cumulation of all my attempts to deal with life’s hardships and pain by burying it and not pressing into hope. At that moment, I rightly recognized that nothing in this world would make me feel better, but I did not push into hope in Christ until the following year.

Only then did my life begin to look more hopeful. I started recognizing that Christ died for all the hardships I experienced, and He would faithfully take all experiences and use them to lead others and offer hope when others can’t yet see their potential. Placing hope in Jesus Christ meant my ultimate failure was not an option—no more throwing in the towel. I do not do this perfectly, but when my footing slips, I regain it more quickly and easily because hope has become the pattern of my life rather than the exception.

Turning Your Page

Freedom starts with hope.

That hope does not disappoint. You may not yet see the fruits of pushing back against the doubts or feel anything will change. Hope is powerful! It gives you space and opportunity to discover resources, mankind to reach in and help, and develops muscles of trust. We will get to the other side of our experiences because nothing separates us from the love of Jesus (Romans 8:28). Nothing and no one will ever be able to steal that freedom from you.

  • What are some of your favorite promises in scripture?
  • Look at the definition of the root word of depression and compare it to the definition of hope.
    • Journal about the differences and similarities between the two.
    • What are some antonyms of each?
  • Pick an antonym of “depress,” such as rejoice, and begin practicing daily.

Lord, I want to cease spiraling into despair. Help me to look up from the pit and see that all things are possible through you. I’ll hold on until they happen, as you promised. Amen

The Big Picture of Us: Life after my Father’s Suicide-Guest Blog

That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

Romans 8:24-25 MSG

Turning My Page

I have a suicide story. My loss and pain connect me to others struggling with and hurt by despair. However, it is hope that moves each of our stories beyond the chapters of despair we experience to deeper love, redemption, and joy.

My guest blogger, Christina Rose is the author of My Appeal to Heaven, and just as she chooses to share her life with you I encourage you to share yours. If you have a story of hope like Christina Rose, I would love to share it on my blog. Email me at [email protected] You are not alone and there are many of us building a mountain of evidence that this life is worth living, come what may.

Christina’s Story

When I was 21 years old, my father leaped to his death from the top floor of a government building in Washington, DC.  Immediately news reporters swarmed our home. I stood at the front door, holding my weeping mother, while my 12-year old sister looked on in shock.  After a few months of being on the news each day, they forgot about us, but we never forgot about Dad.

Dad was a sensitive, introverted man and compassionately took care of others while not expecting anyone to take care of him.  He kept most of his troubles to himself, not wanting to bother others. He was extremely stressed over mounting bills and kids in college and felt there was no way out. In his mind, we left him to pay the bills and did not appreciate him anymore.

The day after the funeral, Mom left for Greece for three weeks, leaving my sister and me to fend for ourselves. 

She was a travel agent and started taking any trips that offered an escape.  The trauma of dad’s death and my mother’s frequent absences sent us into constant PTSD and anxiety. Thoughts of suicide started haunting me. We were still in the family home with memories of dad. It felt like an ugly vulture was sitting on my shoulder, continually whispering dark, hopeless thoughts into my ears. I had night terrors with visions of dark, hideous beings running up and down the stairs. Instinctively, I would recite the Lord’s prayer, which was the only way I could get them to leave.

Dad loved to camp, and we had many remarkable adventures traveling in our Volkswagen bus.  When my daughters were born, I got my own Volkswagen bus to share my father’s love of camping. I would feel his presence strongly on these trips as I pitched the tent, made campfires, and cooked on the camp stove, just as he had taught me to do.  Sitting by the campfire at night, once the girls were asleep, it was so quiet that sometimes I felt that I could hear Dad speaking to me. He seemed to tell me that while he destroyed his body, his soul was still alive, and he had to go to his own funeral. He had to watch us all suffer because of what he did and no longer had arms to comfort us and a voice to tell us he was there. I felt him say, “If only I’d seen the big picture, there was a beautiful life planned for me after that storm I was in, I wished I’d had hung on and gotten through it for all of you.”

I wish he had hung on.

At the funeral, we learned that two of his friends were starting their own business and wanted Dad to join him. He could have quit the job he hated.  My brother had recently moved to Colorado to marry his high school sweetheart and join their family.  Our families were very close, so a few years after Dad’s death, the rest of my family joined them. Dad would have loved the adventure of living out west with our big family.  He never got the chance to meet any of his 23 grandkids or the more than 40 (and still counting) great-grandkids. He missed walking each of us three daughters down the aisle at our weddings and wasn’t there to help us when we needed him when we started families of our own.

 My father’s death and my struggle with despair have taught me that change is part of life, and storms always pass.  If we are still comfortable, we will never grow. The most difficult tests are often a catalyst that catapults into an upgrade in our life that we may not have considered if we had not experienced challenges.  If we can hang on and climb the mountains that face us, once we reach the top, we can see the view of how far we have come and trust that we need not fear the future. 

Never be afraid to ask for help in this process. None of us are equipped to live life alone.

Consistent, unconditional love and support are a lifeline to someone who feels hopeless. Reaching out with encouraging words, taking walks in nature, going to dinner, to movies, for coffee, a road trip, buying a puppy – engage in simple pleasures. Life is full of joy.  Position yourself to listen; people open up when they feel heard.  I pulled myself and my family out of this dark hole several times.  I sought the support of community and churches; they lift my spirit when I feel weak.

In the more than 40 years since my father’s suicide, I have learned many valuable lessons.  The way the universe, stars, sun, and moon operate daily testify to a perfect, divine order to all of life, down to the most minute, microscopic detail.  The earth is complicated. Millions of inhabitants and their diversity, the vast number of species and plants, and the millions of years that we have all existed, we must know that there is a perfect design for everything, including each of us.  It is not up to us to figure out the future but to trust that the creator already has a big picture of who we will be on his mantle.

About the Author

Christina Rose

Christina Rose is an author, trainer, and speaker certified by the John Maxwell Team of Leadership. She is a DAR (Daughter of the American Revolution) whose ancestors fought in the Revolutionary War. She is a world traveler, surfer, foodie, cappuccino loving chocoholic and a devoted mom to kids and dogs and auntie to over 40 nieces and nephews.
Christina’s book, My Appeal to Heaven, is her story. With her young family on the verge of falling apart, Christina finds herself in a desperate situation with no resources other than herself. After appealing to heaven, the Lord takes her on a journey of awakening and miraculous empowerment. That power is available to us all, especially those who are in need of hope and
freedom. Follow her at: christinarose.org

Turning Your Page

Compiling evidence that life is worth living requires placing hope in what you don’t yet see. Every single person who has ever moved beyond despair has taken that first step to hope for something different and then step into another unknown and then another. What step can you take today.

  • Observation is crucial in embracing hope. What are some characteristics you see in nature that reflect trust in the unseen provision of God?
  • Who in your life steps outside their current circumstances to trust in what they can’t yet see? What work or effort do they put in to maintain that hope? Do they experience set backs and disappointments? How do they get back up.
  • Meditate on Hebrews 11:1 “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

Lord, my life is a mess and I am tired of the constant fight. Help me to see your promises and keep pressing into the fact that you are with me. Amen

Ugly Duckling Interupted: Acrostic

You Were Always a Swan

You Were Always a Swan

Such an ugly duckling.” the others cackled, slapping the water in agreement.
(Your head ducked),
Under the burden of shameful stares.
(You swam away),
 Inclined to believe what others say.
(You)
 Couldn’t see the swan swimming smooth as silk on the other side of the reeds.
(Searching)
 Inside yourself for true identity.
(Your answers)
Decidedly never came.
(You)
Ended the story before your clouded reflection cleared.

God Gets Personal in Grief

So be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid and do not panic before them. For the LORD your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail you nor abandon you.

Deuteronomy 31:6 NLT

Turning My Page

Creating New Memories

I didn’t look at the calendar–I knew it was May from head to toe. Grief is a seed also planted every year into my spring. It is a heaviness that grows when May begins. This year, as it did the first year after his death, Jonathan’s birthday falls on Mother’s Day. With my foot still misbehaving and quarantine my yearly tradition of hiking at the cemetery with my family may have to change. I felt angry that something that brings me good memories and joy would have to shift. I was tempted to give in to the anger and spiral down into despair.

I received cards this week from friends who know the difficulties of walking through the next three months. Thank you. I was especially struck by the quote in one card, Deuteronomy 31:6 because the NLT translation used the word “personally”. I love a God who gets personal in my grief because he reveals the truth of his character in my soul and lifts my head to see hope.

Today, he showed me the gifts he already is giving me in my first days of deeper grief. Saturday night I lay in a field at dusk with my family and watched the stars emerge. I didn’t want to go in! The delight of each star, the brilliant moon, and even catching a glimpse of the comet and Venus had me filled with joy. The symphony of sounds in the field soothed my heartache.

Sunday morning I let my husband have fun cutting my hair. I promise, he did a shockingly good job, Michelle! Each moment of joy and laughter reminded and testified to God’s deep love, compassion, and provision, for me. There is an undercurrent of movement of the Holy Spirit I never see with my head down. I must press into experience.

Pay no attention to the evil expression.

God gently nudged me to look up. See hope in this season of grief, and offer it to those who neither hear the voice of God nor see anything beyond the darkness of their circumstances.

I am weeping for any of you who only see the darkness and right now are contemplating suicide. Hope! I see you turning this page, and then another, and another. One day you will look back on the story God is writing into your life and say, “Wow! I see the stars. I hear the music through the darkest nights.”

I know there is a vast world beyond my brokenness and sorrow because God himself, is involved in my life. I promise he is personally involved in your circumstances.

Turning Your Page

You will have seasons you wonder where God is in your circumstances. Look up, don’t stop experiencing life, and allow others to speak hope and truth into your life. You may not yet feel the hope in your grief, but as you make yourself available to hope, you will not be disappointed.

  • What is one adventure you would like to take this week? Set up a time, location, and invite someone to experience with you and or hold you accountable to step into the moment.
  • Describe a part of nature that reminds you to hope. Try to use as many senses as you can to describe the experience.
  • Meditate on Matthew 6:25-34 What in nature can you consider as a display of God’s extravagant love, provision, and personal touch in your life.

Thank you Lord for getting personal in my grief. Lift my head from this pit that I can once again see the stars in their place, hear your presence in my life. Amen

Come over to my Facebook Page for our Facebook Live Discussion and question and answer time on intense grief.

Suicide & Prevention Hotline

National Suicide Hotline

If you or a loved one are in immediate danger, call the National Suicide Lifeline at 988 or go to the website at https://988lifeline.org/