At Judson’s graveside service, each person was given a stone.  We were told to hold our stone throughout the service; at the end we would build a small monument to commemorate God’s power and grace reflected in the life of our Jud.  Part of the process would be letting go of our stone as a

Tragedy binds you with others who have experienced tragedy. It is almost as though when a person experiences tragedy they suddenly find themselves in a “club” of people who have also walked a heart-wrenching path of catastrophic loss.  It is a club no one ever wants to be a part of, but once you discover

O Lord, the universe shouts of Your existence.Nature calls forth Your essence.All creation groans for You, its Maker. Who am I that You should be mindful of me? Your love is known to me,Your faithfulness proven,Your grace encountered. Yet, despite my genuine experience of You, I struggle. O lord, You see my heart,It cannot be

I’ve been lying awake in bed tonight, unable to sleep.  I’m not sure why. If I must have a night of difficulty catching z’s, then oh, what I wouldn’t give for this sleepless night to be because Judson is in the room next door, needing me.  I’ve tossed and turned in these wee hours, remembering

Months ago, after having gone through all of Judson’s belongings, we gave a few boxes of his toys to our church. This morning, when we took Jessie to the church nursery, there on the floor was little, bright-eyed, toe-headed Silas, the precious, almost two year old son of some friends of ours, looking up at

I JUST WANT MY BOY BACK!!!! So often in life when I have wanted something, one way or another, I have been able to make it happen.  Not this time. I cannot arrange, orchestrate, or organize things to get my boy back.  I cannot appeal, discuss, or advocate to get my boy back.  I cannot

Thanks to “Auntie Rachel,” it was “date night” last night.  As Drake and I were driving to dinner, we wound up in a sob fest. We were blubbering and bawling, much like one might do if they hadn’t cried in years (though our tears had been running just a few hours prior). We finally came

It is becoming apparent that there are so many levels to grief.  I am not talking about the stages of grief that counselors describe: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.  I am referring to the personal layers that seem to be unearthed as I walk day by day in my sorrow. While my mind is