In this journey of grief, I have gone from a semi-comatose to fully tender heart. The Lord has widened my vision far beyond myself to see His working in everything. Everyone has a story, a line untold, a pain deep within.
No one is intentionally cruel for no reason. It comes from somewhere. It doesn’t make it hurt less when someone is unkind, but I remind myself that everyone is human and has hard things going on in their life. So in every harsh word, in every blank stare, in a misguided conversation I give grace and mercy. I see His people hurting, so I pray peace and deep love instead of turning away.
Losing a child makes the most simple task daunting. Even at three and a half years later, some days are just plain hard. Certain things are just so painful, so fresh, so dark. Something as easy as grocery shopping can throw me back into grief as I watch a little boy who is around the age Aiden would have been. So I’m rude to the cashier, I’m short with my husband, I’m easily irritated with my kids. It can be a very isolating place to grieve and feel like no one can really understand.
If you know someone who has lost a child, reach out to them.
Don’t let the days pass by without offering a comforting word, a warm cup of tea, a prayer, encouragement, a meal. Be a crutch, helping those walk when they feel like they can’t go on. Be a cheerleader in someone’s life. Offer a hand to hold, time to volunteer, and prayers filled with truth and empathy. Be light in someone’s darkest days.
We oftentimes wait for someone else’s cue to do something for them. What if we stepped out in faith and loved on someone when they least expect it?
Winter will end. Harvest will come. And when it does, reap with eagerness and anticipation of how God will use it.
This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ Laid down His life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. -1 John 3:16