Tag Archives: grief

Fighting for Hope After The Death of a Child

Blog post written by Amy DeBerg in relation to the GraceStory podcast : “Hope: What Does it Mean to Fight for Hope?” (To listen to the podcast: https://www.gracestoryministries.com/podcast/episode/8a92be68/hope-what-does-it-mean-to-fight-for-hope-sue-bowles )

To read this post and others and to listen view the podcast library, go to https://www.gracestoryministries.com/

Fighting for hope can look differently given the context. In the latest episode of GraceStory Podcast, Master Certified Mental Health and Life Coach Sue Bowles shared several different aspects of fighting for hope. Including an emotional example of a time when she found herself fighting for hope during her parents’ divorce. 

Sue defined hope as ‘daring to believe when everything humanly and intellectually is telling you otherwise.’ She further explained hope as daring to hold God to his word until he shows up. As I listened to hope explained in this way, I was taken back to July 2014 with the loss of my 22-year-old son. I clung to hope as I struggled to breathe, at times, and found myself struggling to make it through each moment. Step-by-step. Day-by-day. That’s how I moved forward. 

A friend had advised Sue to watch her steps as she took each one forward. I can relate to that. Sometimes … that’s all I could do. Especially the times I was trying to work through my grief on my own. As Sue mentioned, trudging through in isolation leads to not being able to trust my own thoughts. However, when I chose to share my struggles with one or two trusted people, I made room for God to show up and walk alongside me in healing. God had blessed my family and I with multiple church and workplace families. These individuals and several hundred others that we didn’t know, prayed us through and gave us the support we didn’t even realize we were receiving. The love we received by fighting for hope in community carried me through some pretty difficult days, and continues to as there are still some times when the waves of grief threaten to overtake me. 

My Toolbox: 

*I’ve seen hope in the past through sharing my struggles with a trusted friend. *I declared that God would use my experience to help others because I surrendered it to him. *I have used what I’ve learned through my loss to comfort others in their moments of grief. *I’m writing a book as a way to continue my healing and help others through theirs. Acknowledge my emotions: 

My heart hurts from the absence of my son. 

I’m mad about what I’m missing out on with him. 

What am I grateful for: 

I am grateful for the 22 years I had with my son. 

I am grateful for the community God placed around me. 

Prompt: Build a Fighting for Hope Toolbox by integrating hope building strategies into your life. Ask yourself and maybe journal about the steps Sue shared in the podcast. 1- Identify where you’ve seen hope in the past? What’s helped in the past? 2- Where have you told God you’re expecting him to show up? 

3- How can that experience apply to your current situation? 

4- Build on your current situation. 

Since anxiety and gratitude cannot coexist, acknowledge your emotions before God AND speak truth and statements of gratitude. 

And remember, you matter and so do your emotions.

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Grief in Transition

     Beyond letting go of belongings. Beyond letting go of wanting to know what’s next. Beyond letting go of a known lifestyle. Beyond. Beyond. Beyond. Walking through the process of grief while in a significant life transition, is no easy task. 

     At this point in my husband’s and mine major life shift, I’ve repeatedly found myself journeying through different aspects of grieving. Even though many have portrayed ‘stages of grief’ as a linear progression, I’m here to testify to a different perspective. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. I’ve experienced each one, often all within a day, only to revisit different emotions and/or feelings again and again. 

     Transitioning from living in a house to setting up temporary living in a travel trailer and not knowing what’s to be our living situation beyond fall. This has often elicited in me thoughts and feelings of anger pointed in different directions, including towards my husband who first introduced this new lifestyle choice to me. Maybe even a little at God because it has been obvious to us that he’s drawing us out to make this change. Is it okay for me to be angry at God? I believe so. He is our Father and he can handle any of our emotions, thoughts, feelings, or words. He can handle anything we direct his way. I also know it’s wise for me to be ready to hear from him words of correction because that’s what a good good Father does.

     This process started, I think, with feelings of denial on my part. A year ago when my hubby and I were close to making the decision to buy a camper, I retreated quickly and said no. No, it’s not the right time. And lately … lately I’ve been in denial of my own actions involved in this move; my part in buying a camper, and moving forward in this transition. It’s easy, and probably human nature, to place blame for things I’m not certain are God’s will for our lives. 

     Bargaining for me in this current adventure looks like prayer that includes surrender, bargaining (or begging), and tears. Again, God is a good good Father and has his ways of correcting his children as he answers prayers.

     Depression. Throughout the past several weeks, I’ve wandered in and out of short bouts of depression. Grieving new layers from the losses of my son, my parents, my in-laws, and my grandparents. This led to extreme heaviness on my heart and distracted me from the joys of life. Letting go of items I have been gifted, this too has led to a heavy heart. There’s so many aspects of this transition that have led to a burdensome heart and therefore helped me to take my eyes off the goodness of God and what great things he has for my hubby and I for this next chapter.

     Acceptance. Acceptance doesn’t mean I’m okay with everything that has happened or that I’m not struggling with all the things. To me, it means I can take comfort from my Holy Father. I can find solace and refuge in his presence. I can seek out trustworthy like minded friends to pray for me and remind me of all the ways God has blessed me, especially in the recent past. Acceptance is knowing and relying on our God who has it all under and within his control. It’s resting in the capable and loving embrace of a loving Father who has given so much for me.

For more information on the Stages of Grief: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Five_stages_of_grief#:~:text=According%20to%20the%20model%20of,against%20using%20it%20too%20literally.

If you are interested in working through your own grief and/or loss, please contact me at: soulcarecoach.amy@gmail.com

To order my newest book Wilderness Journey Living Journal: Taking Steps Toward God, please email me at soulcarecoach.amy@gmail.com

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Letting Go

Letting Go 

     Just let go and let God. Let go and trust God. Who hasn’t heard some variation of those directives. And who hasn’t thought to themselves or even said out loud, “But what if …?” There’s nothing easy about letting go of things we’ve held tightly to. Starting a statement with ‘just’ gives the sense of this action being easy. Just walk away. Just stand up. Just close your eyes. These directives are easy, or so they seem.

     In my current situation, I’m learning more and more what it truly looks like to ‘let go.’ In April of this year, my husband and I came to the mutual decision that it is time to move again. This came after many conversations and prayer. The recurring thoughts of selling our current house and what the next stage of our lives would be, led us to believe it’s that time … again. The longest he and I have lived anywhere is five years. The home we lived in at that time was a double-wide we had set on four acres we purchased from my parents. This property was next to where I grew up. So familiar. So beautiful. So much ‘home’ to me. I even declared as our double-wide halves were being driven onto the property, “I’m finally home.” At the time I had no understanding about Heaven being my true home. I knew God, however, not in an intimate way.

     After living in the double-wide for five years, God revealed it was time to move on into what he had for us next. Here we are about twenty years later, in a similar position. Only this time, we aren’t as certain as to what’s next for us in the way of living arrangements. When we moved from that beautiful homey location near my parents, we knew we were buying a house about thirty minutes away from that location. At this juncture, we know few things.

  1. We are to live simply and simply live. All but necessities are to be let go of.
  2. God won’t let us know what’s next until we leave what’s right now. 
  3. Our home for the summer is our new camper which will be settled nicely on a seasonal lot in the town we know we are being drawn to.
  4. Listed last, however, it was the first thing we knew for sure. Abba is drawing my husband and I back to the town I grew up in. The town our double-wide was in.

     The process of moving, this time, has been very different. Each time we’ve moved until now, we would downsize and ‘let go’ of things, however, this time is so much different because of only keeping necessities. As we cleaned and prepped the house to sell, I began to ask myself and God, “What do I truly need?” There were several items I didn’t need to ask, God whispered sweetly in my ear, “Let it go.” My third time sorting through my closet, Abba gently guided me in seeing, “it’s time to let someone else enjoy that.” This was the message with several of my favorite clothing items.

     Probably the most difficult part of letting go of so many things was the time I spent going through the pictures, clothes, and belongings of my loved ones who’ve passed away. Moving through the process led me into another layer of grieving. I went through almost forty-eight hours of feeling immensely heavy-hearted. I asked Abba what was going on with me because I felt so weighed down I couldn’t even bring myself to fake a smile. He said, in his most loving way, “You are grieving many things.” This made complete sense to me. Quickly I recalled all the pictures and such I had looked through. The items I threw away and gave away and the little bit I placed into a tote to store. The memories. The emotions that went along with all those things. Not to mention the reality of grieving a complete lifestyle change. I am walking through another layer and a new layer of mourning that I’ve not experienced before.  

     “Oh Father, thank you for helping me to see this. Now I have some idea of how to proceed. Grieving, I’m well versed in grieving. My mom passed away nearly twenty-one years ago. We are almost to the eleventh anniversary of our son’s passing. I find God’s timing to be beyond words. Our first camper payment is due July fourth, the date our son was taken from us through a motorcycle accident. Our moving date is July eleventh, the date we said our goodbyes to Tad through his funeral. No coincidence, God-incidence. My dad and in-laws have also passed. I’m no stranger to mourning. It’s hard stuff!

     Next Father shared with me that he’s preparing me for my journey ahead. It’s so beautiful to me how God cares for me. He takes time to prepare me for the big things in life. The love of God, I just cannot grasp.

Letting go. 

Letting go of my expectations.

Letting go of the ‘things’ I’ve found my security in, outside of God.

Letting go of the stuff I held onto because it belonged to someone special to me.

Letting go of fears.

Letting go of my need for control of the present and the future.

Letting go. 

For more on my journey and how coaching can guide you on yours, contact me at soulcarecoach.amy@gmail.com.

For more on Prepare-Journey-Debrief-Repeat. And journal along the way. Order my book Wilderness Journey Living Journal: Taking Steps Toward God by emailing me at soulcarecoach.amy@gmail.com

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A Christmas Memory

“to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.” (Isaiah 61:2b-3a NIV)

     My best Christmas memory could also be my most difficult. It was Christmas of 2014. On July 4th that year my son was taken from us when the motorcycle he was driving was hit by a young man who accidentally ran a red light.

     We struggled as we prepared for the Christmas season. Buying gifts for each other and our family seemed to be a good distraction for my husband and I. Our daughter had always wanted an electric guitar, so we bought her one. My husband had always wanted to learn how to play the bass, so I secretly bought him a bass. For our little grandson, a child’s cajon. My only request was to learn how to play the cajon. Somewhere in the process of purchasing all of these musical instruments I realized that God was showing us how He was taking the pain of our loss and making music. Jesus was giving us the beauty of music as we gave Him the ashes of our pain.

     Sometime during the holiday season, God impressed upon me a strong desire to purchase a basket filled with snacks that were some of my son’s favorites; this was to be delivered Christmas morning to the young man who had hit our son. I just knew God wanted us to do this; why, I didn’t know. I also didn’t know just how much peace I would experience through this simple act.

     Even through the pain of loss, this was a most precious Christmas. 

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CELEBRATING A LIFE

  A year after my mom died, in 2005 my dad had to have one of his kidneys removed because it was full of a cancerous mass. This seemed to be the start of many health issues with my dad. He was diabetic, had COPD, congestive heart failure, and developed renal failure because of his body fighting the other issues with only one kidney. He also had both knees replaced; his right knee went through two artificial knees and two medicated spacers, all this because of him developing a nasty infection in the first knee replacement. We almost lost him to sepsis after the first replacement in his right knee. My dad was such a fighter that he just kept going even when it took all that he had to just go through a day. He was very determined to not give up. I spent much time with my dad in the last year of his life, sitting in the hospital ER department because the fluid in his body was too much and he was struggling to breathe. He was in the hospital and rehab more than he was out in the last several years of his life. He spent the last seven and a half months of his life taking dialysis three times a week. During this time, I was able to spend time in sweet conversation and some stressful conversation with my dad. On one occasion, I spent a day with him. That is such a sweet memory for me. My dad struggled with much anxiety and how he would relieve this anxiety would be going for a ride in the country. My dad grew up a farmer and farming was his first love. Driving around the countryside that he knew his whole life, brought him much joy and helped to ease his anxiety. On this day that I spent with my dad, we went for a drive because he was feeling like a caged animal. This drive was one of the sweetest times that I have ever had with my dad and it serves as a great memory for me; just hearing him tell me who owned what property, what crop was planted in the fields, and the families that had owned the different farms. His love for the countryside came out in his words.

      On November 15, 2021, my dad fell while leaving his house to go to dialysis. He fractured seven ribs falling on a wooden flower box. Like I said, my dad was determined to keep fighting; he still went to dialysis not knowing that he fractured seven ribs; he just knew he was in pain. When I picked him up from dialysis, he asked me to take him to the ER because he was hurting really bad and he was sure that he had ‘cracked a rib.’ I knew that he was in bad shape because he had me go into the dialysis office to walk him out and he never did that; he always walked himself out to my truck. To walk out of the building he needed my help as well because he had to walk with a walker always and that day he couldn’t push the walker very well because of the pain. At the hospital, we learned that he had fractured seven ribs on his right side and he had to be transported to a larger hospital with a heart center ICU and where he could receive his dialysis treatments. The nurse shared with me that he was in pretty bad shape but I didn’t know just how bad until later. With everything my dad had been dealing with for years, I knew that he was nearing the end of his earthly life but figured he still had some time. Once he was on his way in the ambulance, I went home because my sister was planning to meet him at the other hospital an hour away. I needed to get home to watch my granddaughter because my husband needed to go to work and I had committed to watching her that night and next morning. It was pretty late when I arrived home and I didn’t get much sleep between caring for an infant and taking many text messages and phone calls about my dad from my sister. The next morning, I was awakened with multiple calls about my dad; from my sister and the hospital. My dad’s condition was so bad that forced air oxygen and some pretty heavy-hitter meds were the only things keeping him alive. My sister and I had to have a pretty tough conversation with my dad about the fact that this time he just wouldn’t be able to bounce back like he had done so many times before; his body was just too beat up and it couldn’t continue anymore. My sister and I had to have a similar conversation prior to our dad’s starting dialysis just over seven months earlier. I hate those conversations! In the end, my dad decided to stop fighting and we were able to be with him as a family when he entered eternity very early on November 17, 2021.

I was thankful to be with him in these last hours. In the last months, one of the things that kept my dad fighting was that he had many things not taken care of and he didn’t want to leave them for my sister and I; but we ended up being left with them anyway. Dealing with my dad’s ‘loose ends,’ kept me from starting the grieving process. I felt; wrongly, that we needed to get all of these things taken care of and then I could grieve and mourn and heal from the loss of my dad. All this did was create friction in my extended family and much unneeded stress for me. By the time that I realized I needed to let the issues go, I had pushed the grieving aside and didn’t face it. It took several months for me to realize how I had not allowed myself to grieve my dad’s passing. This has taken an ugly toll on my mental state and emotions. I realized that I was mad at my dad for many of his choices through the years and for all the things that he left behind for my sister and I to deal with. And then it felt like my sister was struggling so much with his passing that I thought that I HAD to DO it ALL on my own. Such lies I believed! Much too late I realized that the stuff could wait to be dealt with; I just needed to BE with my Heavenly Father and my family and let God help me to heal, the rest of the stuff would work itself out in time. Instead, my push to get it all worked out made for a more miserable Thanksgiving; he passed about eight days before Thanksgiving. While I am thankful that I have begun to actually mourn my earthly father’s passing, it’s still really hard to face that both of my parents are no longer ‘here’ with us physically. Now it’s up to my sister and I to keep our family connected.

#LossIs Hard

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DRAGONFLIES & SORROW

The life of a dragonfly begins as an egg laid underwater and it remains under water for the majority of it’s life. It is only after two to five years of toughing it out in the water that a larvae emerges into the sunlight, breaking out of its exoskeleton and transforms into the beautiful flying creature that has become a symbol of transformation and resilience.

A dragonfly’s life can be looked at in stages; the first stage being the egg, the second stage being the larvae, and the third stage being the dragonfly with wings to fly. Many people look at grief and sorrow in the same way. The experts have shared that there are stages of grief and how we need to move through each stage so that we can get to the ‘sunlight’ and be somehow on the other side of grief. Unlike the life stages of a dragonfly, the ‘stages of grief’ are not linear and those experiencing them may not experience everyone of them or experience them just once. It is possible to experience several of the stages in one day, only to experience all the same in the next day. What is similar with grief and sorrow to the stages of life of the dragonfly is that when we are strong enough to climb out of the proverbial water and break out of our grieving exoskeleton, we can grow our soaring wings and fly in the life that God created us for with the strength that He has created in us through the under water experience of grief.

During our times of underwater grief, we can be in a big hurry to get out of the water and make it to the sunlight; however, to rush to the sunlight we miss out on the strength that can be gained by living in the depths of the pain and sorrow of grief. Please hear my heart, I am not saying that we need to stay in the depths and just live there; I am saying that we need to swim toward the pain of the loss and allow God to grow us through it. In His infinite wisdom, God will give us the strength to grow in and through this pain and sorrow and then equip us to emerge from the water with the strength to soar in the life that He created us to live.

In our hurried and rushed life, we think that we need to get from here to there quickly; in reality, we sometimes just need to ‘be.’ Be in the moment. Be in the pain. Be in the sorrow. And know that God will be with us through it all.

Jeremiah 17:7-8 NIV

7 “But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,
    whose confidence is in him.
8 They will be like a tree planted by the water
    that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
    its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
    and never fails to bear fruit.”

As we are strengthened and ready to emerge from the deep waters of pain and sorrow, what awaits us is a life where we can break out of the grief and grow our wings to soar in the strength that we have gained through our season in the water. The tree mention in Jeremiah 17:8 got it’s strength from weathering many storms through many seasons. It does not fear because it has experienced life and grown through it. We can trust God and put our confidence in Him because our growth and strength; not only comes from Him, but with Him.

NOTE: If you are journeying through grief, I highly recommend reading “A Grace Disguised: how the soul grows through loss” by Jerry Sittzer.

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REFLECTIONS

Reflecting on the celebrations of the Fourth of July look a little different for my family than other families. I have heard several times Happy Fourth or Happy Independence Day! While I celebrate the blessings of living in a ‘free’ land, I also grieve the loss of my son on this day. It’s with mixed emotions that I venture into this day. I am so grateful for my independence as a citizen of the USA and I am; at the same time, sad for the missing part of my family and grateful that I can know that Tad’s in the presence of our Heavenly Father and not spending eternity separate from Him. I hate that I can’t be with Tad and I miss him more than I can speak; however, truly he has always been God’s son first and mine second so I am thankful for the 22 short years that I had the privilege of being his mom. Of course, there were times when I really wanted to string him up by his toes because he pushed me to my breaking point; but I still loved him with all my heart.

Tad liked to live on the edge; of what, I don’t know but always on the edge. He loved much. He liked to make people laugh. And he always helped me to not take myself so seriously. Boy, I miss his hugs. (I know, random thought.) Anyway, grieving the loss of my son has been a journey in so many ways. I have seen God work in more ways than I could ever imagine. I have had people pray for me that I have never met. I have experienced a pain like no other pain I have ever experienced before; and at the same time, a love like no other because it comes from my Abba Father. Grief is a wild ride.

The reason that I share all of this today is because today; the Fourth of July 2022, marks eight years since my Tad went to be with the Lord because of a motorcycle accident. The day began with a celebration of my husband’s birthday. His birthday is July third and he had to work on that day so we; as a family, celebrated on the fourth. God blessed us with a fun day of playing with Emmett at the ‘frog park’; as he called it, and then we went shopping together. My husband took his Harley out for a ride while our kids and I made his favorite meal. After dinner, Tad went for a ride himself on his dad’s Harley. When he left for that ride, it was the last time we saw him. As anyone who has experienced something like this knows, the details of such days tend to be forever implanted in your mind. Sometimes they get a little jumbled, but they are there. Tad’s son Emmett was three years old when he lost his daddy. It’s been a journey for him as well. Emmett is now 11 years old and is so much like his dad. I know that Tad would be so proud of the man that he is becoming!

Emmett and I have had some interesting conversations where he shares with me his thoughts on things of life and I felt it fitting for him to share from his perspective.

Question: What do you wish people understood about what it’s like to be a young person whose lost his dad at a young age?

Emmett: It’s not easy only having one parent especially when the one that died was your best friend and the only one left you don’t really get along with.

Question: How is life without a dad to guide you through life?

Emmett: It can be hard at times. Sometimes I think it’s not fair. But I always remember this is all part of God perfect plan.

While the people around us celebrate with fireworks and parades, we just work to get through the day and remember how blessed we are for the loved ones that we still have with us today. One of the things that makes me smile is remembering how Tad would have been happy that he went to Heaven with a bang because fireworks were happening in the area of his accident. This may seem like a strange thing to smile about, unless you knew Tad.

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