Refreshing Faith
My friend Rhonda Robinson knows grief all too well. In her excellent book, FreeFall, she draws from her personal grief journey to help those navigating a path they never signed up for. I asked her to share with us today. Here’s Rhonda.
In 2008, we lost our youngest son at age 13. Our world shattered. When I look back today, I clearly remember those who helped us. They probably don’t realize how much their gestures mattered.Continue Reading
I wish someone had warned me about grief. Maybe no one knew, or perhaps I wouldn’t have heard. In case you ever need to know, here are two words to remember after you’ve lost a loved one—“three months.”
The three-month anniversary of a loss feels like grief has started over. We buried my mother on Mother’s Day weekend weeks before my high school graduation. Three months later, grief blindsided me on my first weekend of college.
Years later, Daddy passed away in August. That Thanksgiving I found myself summoning all I had to hold it together. What was happening?Continue Reading
I left my dear friend feeling the loss that was quickly approaching. Her body was shutting down. I wanted to hold her close, protect her, and fill her weak body with all the love and strength I could impart. Instead I held her hand and loved her the best I could.
Our family met Susie’s at the Kanki Japanese Steak House in the late eighties. We were celebrating our young son’s birthday. We sat facing the chef who entertained us as he prepared our food. At the end of the meal, the chef told us Susie had paid for our meals.
Stunned, we turned to this woman we’d just met. She waved off our gratitude as if paying for a stranger’s dinner was an everyday occurrence. Maybe it was for Susie. Little did I know this would be the beginning of a deep and lasting friendship.Continue Reading
Jesus says He’s gone to prepare a place for us (Jn. 14:2-3). Have you thought about what kind of place in heaven He’s preparing specifically for you?
Much to my mother’s chagrin, when I was a girl, I loved blue jeans and climbing trees. I’d shimmy up the trunk of a tall pine the neighborhood boy couldn’t reach without standing on his bicycle. My trees were forts, castles in the clouds, and hot houses for daydreaming.
My arms and legs no longer scale trees or swing from branches. But I still feel the magic when I peek through leafy limbs.
Our kitchen sits over our garage. The Crepe Myrtle growing beside our garage doors spreads its lovely branches in front of a bank of casement windows. When I look out from my kitchen table, my heart smiles. I’m living in a heated and air-conditioned tree house.
I wasn’t thinking about how much I enjoyed the view from trees when we picked out our house plan or when we planted the Crepe Myrtle. But God remembered.Continue Reading