Tuesday, August 4, 2020

Honoring Sweet Jess One Year Later

(1986 - 2019)

I wasn't going to write about Jessica.  

The sadness of this, the first anniversary of her sudden, tragic death wasn't passing by me, no, not at all.  And it's not that I didn't adore her or want to honor her Christ-centered, beautiful life.

I simply don't have the energy.

There's a heaviness there that can't be denied.  A whole lot of wondering.  A deep aching for my sister and her family and my mother.  Recalling Jess's unique laugh, her immense love for people 'round the world, her incredibly creative spirit, her passion for Jesus, her enjoyment of sometimes quite odd cuisine.  

Someone's missing at the family table, at the celebration, in the circle of chairs on the beach, at the gift exchange, on the string of family texts, at the crazy Zoom game night.

Yet again.




With each death our family has experienced during the last five years, we have been swiftly, painfully, irrevocably re-altered.  Slowly, we're all in the process of somehow cobbling together a new identity which feels kind of odd and uncomfortable, like a new pair of shoes that doesn't quite fit yet.  

Yet could it be that our bonds are stronger because of our shared unspeakable sorrows?

Many of you have suffered a succession of losses as well.  Even one departure of a loved one can be traumatic enough to send us reeling for longer than we thought possible.

I hear your souls' cry and I want you to know that you are not alone. 
 



It's important to notice how we're feeling as our remembered losses come to call, deep sorrows wrapped around joyful memories sweet.  

Not to notice leads to shoving weird, unexplained emotions deep down inside somewhere dark, even as odd behaviors and strange responses seemingly pop out from nowhere.  Which can only lead to all kinds of maladies and messy junk ... emotional, physical, spiritual, relational.

We do best when we honor our traumas, name our pain, and refuse to hide from the reality of what has turned our world upside down and inside out, as awful or tragic as it may be.  Not in a maudlin way, but rather reflectively, quietly, considering all that has emerged in the weaving of our own unique family story.

And don't let anyone tell you that there's some kind of magical 3 step formula to grieving well.  They're just kidding themselves and giving you false hope.  Yes, life goes on.  But grief is a very personal journey, a daunting, sometimes overwhelming task filled with winding bends, deep valleys, and yes, some mountaintop vistas.  

And the whole process goes on much longer than you'd ever dreamed.  

Jessica was a mental health therapist.  I think she'd agree with all this here with a nod of her head, a gentle smile, a simple 'yes, Aunt Linda.'


artist unknown


Along the journey, we are blessed beyond measure if there is another soul to listen quietly, to affirm what is most true about us with the gentle touch of a hand, a silent tear falling, the simple nod of a head, a word of grace and consolation carefully spoken.  

Tender friends who refuse to lob Scripture at us, preach unwelcome words, or share their seemingly endless sagas in an effort to make our hard-to-watch pain somehow magically vanish from view.

And then ... there is a Sacred Friend who is so much closer than any earthly loved one could ever be.   

He, far above all others, truly gets what grief and sorrow are all about for He experienced them to a depth that we'll never come close to imagining.

He is our hope, our solace, our Comforter.  Now and forever.
Linda



*


*

doing life with

48 comments:

  1. Thank you Aunt Linda. Very beautiful ❤️

    ReplyDelete
  2. Replies
    1. Hey, Victor, thanks. I really appreciate your prayer support.

      Delete
  3. I like the Healing isn't linear illustration. That is spot on!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It sure is, Bill! When I first saw it, I said YES, that's IT!

      I was thinking in terms of physical and emotional healing, spiritual growth, as well as grief. Its uncertain and seemingly random lines lead upward and onward.

      I find that so inspirational for us all, especially in this season.

      Delete
  4. I can feel and hear your pain, Linda, and it breaks my heart! It's always so hard to press through, even a year later, from something as tragic as a family member's untimely death. Jessica had so much of life in front of her and you all had so much to look forward to spending it with her! It's got to feel as if you've been robbed! Praying for you, dear friend! Praying that remembering the anniversary of your precious niece helps bring some measure of comfort from God and friends. Hugs

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Beth, thank you. So much. As ever, we hear each other's hearts. I'm so grateful that God allows us to remain in each other's lives, even from afar. Your simple presence here is a huge comfort, an anchor, a peace.

      Bless you.

      Delete
  5. Ahhh, Linda. I saw the photo of Jessica, and I began to pray. It's hard to believe it's already been a year. I'm praying God's comfort in the painful missing, my friend. And I'm sending a virtual hug your way.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, Jeanne. That Jessica's picture prompted prayer means the world to me. I can't begin to tell you how that walked me through the rest of the day. Thank you, thank you, friend, for offering what the whole family needs as we continue forward ...

      Bless you.

      Delete
  6. Healing from grief is a journey that differs for each one of us, and it definitely takes its twists and turns in the process. There's no "right" way to go through it; sifting through our emotions and allowing us to feel each one is so important. I will definitely keep you in prayer, Linda, and your family, too.
    Blessings!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Martha, thanks for that offer of prayer support. We're all so grateful, friend ...

      Delete
  7. Oh yes, keep honoring and remember your sweet Jess, and keep reminding us to allow ourselves to feel deeply, especially the sorrows that take us by surprise and threathen to take us under. Yes, thank you, Linda for your open dialogue that comes from a depth of caring and the knowing experience of grief. xx

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And maybe our best offerings, true wisdom, or thoughtful acts of kindness come from our most broken places ...

      Delete
  8. The heaviness of grief lingers, sometimes drops us to our knees and other times has us stretching upward in gratitude of the gift we had for a time. I'm not sure it ever goes away completely when we lose a loved one. But our Sacred friend knows. I love this Linda. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And I love that you're here, Lynn ... and am so thankful with you that our Sacred Friend knows our hearts. How blessed are we!

      I hope you are well ...

      Delete
  9. Oh Linda, it's hard to believe it has been a year already. I still remember thinking: Why God? Why someone who is so young and such a witness of Your love and compassion? And I remember your sea glass. Praying God will strengthen you and yours. Thank you for this heartfelt post and encouragement to "honor our traumas, name our pain, and refuse to hide from the reality of what has turned our world upside down and inside out, as awful or tragic as it may be." And I loved that illustration that Healing Isn't Linear. So true. Love and blessings of God's sufficient grace to you!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Over the years, I've learned so much from counseling clients as they've walked through their traumas and heartaches and have come out the other end to the healing place where they, in turn, can minister to others.

      It's a beautiful redemption from the ugly, sad, and tragic seasons.

      I'm grateful we love and serve THE Redeemer.

      And so happy to see you out and about again, friend!

      Delete
  10. Oh, sweet friend! I am so sorry for your deep pain and loss. Nothing I can say can help or heal it, but I want you to know I care and am praying for you and sending hugs your way.

    ReplyDelete
  11. What a wonderful, deeply felt tribute to your niece, dear friend. You are so right - grief isn't a linear progression. It does get better over time but sometimes it seems as though we take one step forward and two steps back. Sending virtual hugs and prayers your way.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm finding that illustration so helpful and reassuring that no matter what we're facing, we are able, by His grace and courage to emerge from the swirl of despair.

      Thanks for your sweet visit, Laurie ...

      Delete
  12. I'm sorry for the loss you and your family have endured ... and the anniversary is no easy hill to get over ... your description of healing not being linear ... having gone through a different kind of loss ... I wish it were linear, but respect God for making it a bit of a mess ... my prayers are with you

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I continue to be amazed and inspired how God enters the messiness of our lives, which He has somehow allowed us to encounter, and walks with us as we heal in all the ways that matter most.

      It's not usually easy, is it. But He has proved Himself faithful.

      Thank you for giving us a peek at your broken heart. I so respect that you've spent some time here this evening with me.

      Delete
  13. Linda, I am so deeply sorry for the pain and loss that you have suffered. I know you don’t expect words, but I do care and will pray for you and your family..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Pam, thank you so much for your prayers for our family ...

      Delete
  14. Sweet friend, your heavy, yet tender words are a beautiful tribute. Time is a strange commodity. Even more so when grieving the loss of someone so dear. Lifting you in prayer, my friend.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. 'Time is a strange commodity.'

      Yes, you're so right, June ...

      Delete
  15. I’m so very sorry for the tragic and sudden loss your family has had to endure. I have experienced many losses in my life and, like everyone else, each had their share of difficulty. My experiences with losing loved ones in death has been my greatest heartache. My experience of the loss of my child was akin to having a limb amputated. Life would never feel the same. Initially paralyzing pain, then the phantom pain that to this day persists, and all the while as God’s presence attended and attends me.
    Death should rend our hearts. It did for Jesus. Grief and deep sadness and lament should be recognized as “normal” responses, and normal, as well, whatever timeframe attached. It is an enemy that one day will be conquered. I look forward to that day.
    Regarding memorializing those we love and sharing our pain, I think C.S. Lewis says it best: “I have learned now that while those who speak about ones miseries usually hurt, those who keep silence hurt more”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Well, Nancy, where I do I begin to thank you for joining our conversation, for sharing your down-to-earth wisdom borne from your own series of deep losses and pain.

      Many who sit with your words will be grateful at the way you've normalized lament as our culture, and sometimes our faith, desires to hustle us through these necessary spaces.

      And kudos to C.S. Lewis. Yet again, he says it all.

      Love you for being here, for joining us, dear friend. Please keep on returning, ok?!
      xo

      Delete
  16. I love the idea of honoring our traumas. Sitting with them. Feeling them. Experiencing their fullness instead of pushing the pain away. In a way, allowing ourselves the fullness of our grief honors those we grieve, doesn't it. I don't think I ever thought about it that way before. You're right. It's a very personal journey. Prayers for your journey and that of your family. My condolences.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The deeper we love, the more the pain, the greater God's grace.

      And Barbara, oh yes, this right here --> 'allowing ourselves the fullness of our grief honors those we grieve.'

      I'm always appreciative of your wisdom, friend ...

      Delete
  17. Thank you for your suggestion to honor our traumas and name our pain. Wise advice, Linda. With you I praise God that he is our hope, solace, and Comforter. I can't imagine doing life--or grieving--without Him.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Absolutely, Nancy, I couldn't agree with you more. Where would we be without Jesus ...

      Delete
  18. Oh, LInda ... what a precious way to remember your beautiful niece. I’m glad you decided to write about Jessica. Grief is a normal part of life, I see that now. And when other people who have loved and lost share about their dear ones, about their sadness, about their memories, it encourages me and perhaps even emboldens me to keep pushing through my own journey, whatever it happens to hold that day. Praying for you, my friend.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Lois, you showed us all how to honor your parents, to write through your grief, to let us share in your sorrow and the bittersweet. Thank you for going there in your time of double sorrow, friend.

      Delete
  19. Linda, this was so soul-stirring and heart-felt. And vulnerable. So sorry for the trauma and sorrow you and your family have endured in the loss of Jess. Without doubt, she touched many lives and will always be remembered for those deep-down characteristics that only come from someone who knows Jesus intimately.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Karen, yes, Jess knew Jesus intimately. It was such a joy to watch her grow into a woman of deep faith who was passionate about reaching out to 'the least of these.'

      Thanks for being here this morning.

      Delete
  20. Such a beautiful post in memory of one you’ve lost. The reflections here contain such wisdom for all of us, as each one of us are facing or have and will face times of loss.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hey Amanda! It's been good to connect back and forth this morning. To meet you today is a lovely grace ...

      Delete
  21. I am so sorry and hear your grief. Yes yes please honor those we've lost anytime and for as long as we need to. That graphic about grief says it all. i have heard grief is like a roller coaster - ups and downs and unexpected turns. My heart and prayers are with you!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Jean, hi and thanks for dropping by. For sure, that graphic takes the pressure off ourselves to move quickly upward and onward through life's challenges - grief, any kind of loss, illness, dark nights of the soul.

      It's comforting, isn't it ...

      Delete
  22. Oh, that crazy timeline. It is real indeed. :( Thanks for sharing Jess with us again here, Linda. She must have been an amazing presence here.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, she was. Her legacy lives on ...

      I think she'd get a kick out of that.

      Delete
  23. A whole year....it seems like yesterday when you shared your painful loss with me. I am sorry you hurt, pal.

    My niece, a popular school teacher, has been gone 13 years but her husband introduced to me a strange way to remember her. He said that she always made note of the time when all digits were the same like 11:11, 2:22 or 3:33 so now when I see the clock on times with the same digits, I ask Jesus to give her a high five or hello from me. Can’t wait to see her, my dad, my mom, Laura, Bill P, Judy, my gram and all others who I will be surprised to live a resurrected life with one day.

    Praying for you all as you remember Jess

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's hard to imagine that it's been 13 years, Carol. Such a great loss for you, for your family. I love that you connect with the Lord about her. He cares so much.

      And thanks for reminding us of the great reunion that awaits us someday. It's easy to get so absorbed in our earthly life that we lose sight of our future heavenly home.

      Come quickly, Lord Jesus!

      Delete