Jesus of Nazareth was humiliated, tortured, and ostracized. For some of us, the passion (suffering) inflicted upon Jesus is not so unlike what many of us have experienced in terms of our own traum…
(Clink on the link highlighted in red below to read the article.)
Source: PTSD Spirituality: Easter, Co-Wounded with Jesus
Why a glimpse behind the curtain to the deeply personal and hidden grief of a bereaved parent? Not to inspire your pity; of that I can assure you. Instead to inspire others to look beyond the surface of a grieving friend or family member. To consider how families are affected by loss, emotionally, psychologically and spiritually, as well as the unique family dynamics that result; which might help you comfort, support and encourage them. The bereaved desperately want to be understood, to have their feelings validated, to break free of the isolation, to mourn unrushed, to have another share their sorrow (not attempt to fix it). This post was written months ago and is not reflective of my current state of mind.
Breakdown
It’s time to get up, past time really. Breakfast, shower, dressing . . . then my turn. It all takes time, but I just do not want to get up and we’ll be late if I don’t get moving soon.
It’s raining. Again. I hate rain during the daytime. Hair appointments at noon. Still, I’d rather stay in bed. Bury my head in my pillow — close my eyes — forget the world, it’s disappointments, my responsibilities — life and the fact that I’m still living it. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. Why must I get up? Why must I breathe in and out? Why must I do it all over and over again?
For the love of Gracen.
For the love of Gracen.
It’s all for the love of Gracen.
My heart is anchored here but I long to flee — from what happened — from what is yet to come — to fly far, far away. To flee this unwelcome reality — oh, to be able to pretend it never happened! To be able to board a time machine and travel back, back before the collision, back before diagnosis, back before Katie, before Gracen, before Bethany and Cole. Back before marriage, back before love, back before David, back before my very existence, erasing every footprint, every memory of me. Back before every bit of my existence tainted the lives of the people I love far more than life. Just to have the opportunity to un-hurt others by erasing me.
It’s 10:34 a.m., I have to get up . .
I can’t. I just can’t do it.
Tears falling.
Call David ask him to cancel our appointments. Ring, ring.
Oh, no, she’s up! Hang up the phone. Get it together before she sees you!
Ring, ring . . . Oh, crap, David’s calling back and Gracen’s right here! I can’t talk in front of her.
Leaping off the bed, head down.
“Hey, Janet, Did you call me?”
Leave the room NOW! Find a place where she can’t hear you!
“Janet, I can’t hear you . . .” David’s voice comes over the phone line.
Sob.
“Janet? Janet? What’s wrong?” David’s voice is Frantic now.
“David?”
“Janet?, What’s wrong?”
More crying. I hear David’s breath hitch through the phone line.
“I’m sorry I had to leave the room.”
“Where’s Gracen?”
“She’s up. She’s in the bathroom.”
“What’s wrong?”
Another sob slips out.
“I’ve just run out of the energy necessary to force myself to do this today. I was just calling to ask you to cancel our hair appointments.”
“I’m coming home.” Frantic.
“No, no, don’t come home. I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay. I just can’t keep our appointments. Not enough time left now anyway. I’m up. I can take care of Gracen. I just don’t want her to see me like this — to worry her.”
“Where are you?”
“Katie’s room.” The room next door to Gracen’s that now holds two twin beds without sheets and blankets, void of anything personal. Katie’s empty room spins through my mind.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you. Can you please just cancel our appointments? I can’t talk to anyone right now.”
“Sure”
“Don’t come home, David. I’ll get it together. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”
Forty-three more days until Gracen heads to college. I simply cannot unravel for forty-three more days. I tell myself, take your meds — get it together. You can get up for forty-three more days. You can. You can. You will.
The Calm After the Storm
Wow! How did that get so out of control?
It was Gracen’s appearance at the same time David called back. The ring tone flooding my system with adrenaline, silent tears turned to sobs as I desperately tried to flee my room preventing Gracen from seeing me in such a state.
Oh, she’s seen me cry before, but only the controlled version. Not ugly, wretched sobs.
But today I was not able to shelter Gracen from my grief. I upset her although no words were spoken. I know she is afraid she will lose another family member; she recently admitted as much. I fear that too, but for her, all that’s left to lose are her parents — the people who have always represented safety and security to her. I don’t want to inflame her fears.
And David — he’s seen discouragement and apathy, he’s held me through tear filled nights, he’s shouldered extra burdens when normal parts of life just seem to overwhelm me. He’s been party to a meltdown or two or ten, but to receive a call at work — never before has he had to cope with a long distance breakdown even when I called to tell him an ambulance was transporting Gracen and I to the ER after a frantic 911 call. Today, I could hear the fear in his voice. It devastates me to know I did that to him!
Heaping fear upon grief — I shoulder my load — Gracen’s and David’s too, as they are forced to shoulder mine as well. Grief felt far more individual when Cole died — or maybe time has just softened the memories, blurring the rough edges of grief, leaving some sharp and biting and others smooth and fading.
Helping the Bereaved Bear their Burdens
1. Understand that it is often a struggle for those who mourn to get out of bed, do everyday tasks, leave their homes, socialize. Others become hyper involved; anything to keep themselves moving, distract themselves from the constant pain. Those who mourn may bounce back and forth between the two extremes.
2. Realize that the bereaved often perform a grieving cha, cha, cha of sorts. They try to attack their grief, process and get through it, then overwhelmed, try to suppress it, hide from it, deny it’s existence and ignore it. Be prepared to go with the flow. Talk through their struggles with them if they bring them up, or grant them the freedom to talk about other things.
3. Be aware that grieving families often continue to be hit with additional health problems, trips to doctors, hospitals and emergency rooms can trigger mild to dramatic 
traumatic responses. What may be a minor problem produces anxiety on steroids. Pray them through, sit with them, validate their fears.
4. Wives seem to take responsibility for maintaining the emotional equilibrium in the home: husbands strive to protect and shelter. Loss makes both feel anywhere from inadequate to utterly incompetent. Grieving men need attention too. Most will never ask for it. Invite men to sporting events, movies, poker night, fishing or lunch. They may not talk about their grief, but your presence signals support and encouragement.
5. Understand that deep grief often brings remorse for having been born at all. Job felt this way. Pay attention to suicidal comments — don’t discount them. A desire to have never been born and suicidal intentions are not synonymous, however, comments to that effect should not be overlooked. Pray for wisdom and discernment to hear exactly what the individual is communicating through veiled speech.
6. Be aware that the sense of personal safety and security has been destroyed for every member of the family. Fear of experiencing another loss is both common and rational. While uncommon, many families have suffered separate and subsequent deaths of immediate family members. Please don’t discount or brush off a bereaved parent’s fears in this area. It is a legitimate fear and they need it acknowledged.
Why a glimpse behind the curtain to the deeply personal and hidden grief of a bereaved parent? Not to inspire your pity; of that I can assure you. Instead to inspire others to look beyond the surface of a grieving friend or family member. To consider how families are affected by loss, emotionally, psychologically and spiritually, as well as the unique family dynamics that result; which might help you comfort, support and encourage them. The bereaved desperately want to be understood, to have their feelings validated, to break free of the isolation, to mourn unrushed, to have another share their sorrow (not attempt to fix it). This post was written months ago and is not reflective of my current state of mind.
Too Tired . . .
I do not know how to do this life I’ve been left with and I really don’t want to figure it out.
I’m tired – not, let’s just end it all tired, but physically, emotionally and spiritually tired.
Tired from staying up later night after night. 3:00, 3:30, 4:00, 4:48, tired.
Tired of trying to figure out what to do with myself, for myself, about myself.
Tired of wondering why God didn’t simply take us all home December 26, 2013, the day of the collision that killed two of my daughters. Tired of wishing He had. Tired of thinking of what the future holds, tired of trying to brainwash myself into believing there just might be something good to get up for every day.
Bone weary, heart achingly tired.
Too tired. Just too, too tired.
Helping the Bereaved Bear their Burdens
1. Offer to take young children for a play date once a week.
2. Don’t push the bereaved into activities – taking on new hobbies, jobs, etc.
3. Invite them to do things you know they enjoyed in the past. If they decline, ask again another day.
4. Don’t expect the bereaved to behave as they did before the death of their loved one. They simply aren’t the same people any more. They have been irrevocably changed in many ways. Don’t encourage them to “get back to normal,” or question when they will. Don’t quash their attempts to talk about their feelings or their loved one. They are not wallowing in self-pity, they are experiencing and coping with the normal response to loss. Grief and self-pity are very different things! The message you are sending with comments such as these is that the bereaved are responsible for ensuring that others are not uncomfortable in their presence and that their loved one no longer matters. Telling them to choose joy is tantamount to telling them that positive thinking or gaining a new perspective will take their pain away.
Ultimately, the bereaved feel both defiant and rebuked for loving deeply. Well-intentioned friends and family members inadvertently become unsafe for honest sharing. A failure to validate feelings elevates the turmoil the bereaved are already dealing with. They become angry because they have to justify their feelings and their right to mourn while simultaneously questioning if they are indulging in self-pity. Invalidation leads to isolation as the grief-stricken find they cannot vent their feelings and wrestle with their faith without rebuke or correction. Invalidation causes the bereaved to suppress their grief, wear a mask in public, hide their vulnerability and finally, it lengthens the time it takes to work through the process because the bereaved will search and search for safe people to be real with all in an effort to receive validation of both their feelings and the value of their loved one.
5. Realize that for the bereaved, feeling bad feels bad, but feeling better feels bad too. The psyche is telling the bereaved that feeling better, laughing, having fun and moving forward means that their loved one was not critically important in their life. Of course, that’s completely untrue, but it’s also a very common and normal way to feel.
6. Keep an eye open for signs of depression. Encourage a visit with their doctor for an antidepressant or antianxiety medications. Encourage grief counseling. Many churches provide Christian counseling services for their members, the uninsured or 
underinsured. Reinforce the truth that depression is normal and nothing to be ashamed of.
7. Keep an ear open for language that might indicate they might be at risk of harming themselves. If concerned about suicide, ask them outright. Share your concerns with their spouse, parent or their pastor. Don’t brush it off – take those words seriously.
8. Be aware that men, women, siblings and children grieve differently. Families struggle to do what’s best to allow each individual to grieve in the way that is best for them but those ways are often conflicting. One needs to talk, to be heard. Another can’t talk and can’t listen. If you are close to a bereaved couple, be sure they are understand that everyone grieves differently. Recommend meeting with a grief counselor if mismatched grieving styles are creating conflict.
Why a glimpse behind the curtain to the deeply personal and hidden grief of a bereaved parent? Not to inspire your pity; of that, I can assure you. Instead to inspire others to look beyond the surface of a grieving friend or family member. To consider how families are affected by a loss, emotionally, psychologically and spiritually, as well as the unique family dynamics that result; which might help you comfort, support and encourage them. The bereaved desperately want to be understood, to have their feelings validated, to break free of the isolation, to mourn unrushed, to have another share their sorrow (not attempt to fix it). This post was written months ago and is not reflective of my current state of mind.
I Can’t Do This Anymore!
There are days and moments and very long nights when I think, I can’t do this anymore. Come to find out, that simple thought is a trigger for tears.
Intellectually, I know I can. Physically, I know I can. Emotionally, well there’s where the breakdown happens.
I don’t know if my impending empty nest is permanent or temporary. I know who I am for the next three months but not who I will be after that. I’m really afraid of that answer.
Emotionally I am weak, very weak. Within the borders of my emotions I fear failure — to prepare Gracen for what’s ahead for her physically — to be there for her in an effective way — to watch her experience the devastation wrecked by progressive disease — to experience it for myself alongside her — to watch David experiencing it alongside her, alongside me. To see the toll it takes on each one of us individually as we somehow 
continue to put on a brave face and hide the true depths of the pain and sorrow from each other so as not to increase their individual burden in this bizarrely intertwined protection dance we unconsciously perform. And as all this plays out within our home and personal relationships, the current culture demands that we have a positive attitude and recognize our blessings. It’s exhausting. It’s overwhelming. It’s frustrating. It’s impossible.
Moments such as this one, Progressive Disease – A Moment of Triumph, are rare and bittersweet. (At the beginning of the clip, keep your eyes on the right side of the screen so you don’t miss Gracen’s appearance.)
“Don’t be afraid — trust God”, we are told in the midst of situations where there are very real things to fear. Sorry, those commands, biblical or not, are not helpful. I’m not saying they are wrong, just that they aren’t comforting and encouraging. It’s almost impossible to talk yourself out of fear — especially after your worst fear has already been realized. Those words, “Don’t be afraid — trust God”, heap indictment of failure on already emotionally overburdened believers who interpret those words as an accusation — “You aren’t trusting God”, instead of as the encouragement they are intended to be. At the same time, the searing pain within testifies to the truth that what we are trusting God for is eternal in nature. We are terrorized by the knowledge that our desires, for ourselves and those we hold dear in this temporary world, play second fiddle to God’s purposes. This, of course, I can attest to from all too much personal experience. God’s will serves our ultimate eternal good but the rub is that we reside in the here and now. And while from an eternal perspective our lives are no longer than a blip on a radar screen, in the here and now that blip lasts ten, twenty even thirty years or more. Our afflictions are light and momentary from an eternal perspective but they don’t feel that way in the day to day.
Yes, I need to cultivate an eternal perspective, lay up eternal treasures, yadda, yadda, yadda. But frankly, there are days, moments and very long nights during which I’m too emotionally frightened and exhausted to exercise my spiritual muscles.
Helping the Bereaved Bear their Burdens
1. Pray that the bereaved will put on the full armor of God. Their faith is under attack and they are exhausted and deeply vulnerable.
2. Avoid the use of platitudes and trite phrases. They serve to frustrate and unconsciously communicate unintended messages. (i.e., faith and trust in God mean things hurt less, our hope for eternity exchanges grief for joy, joy and happiness are the same thing, the salvation of the lost justifies the death of a loved one).
3. Be extremely careful in the use of Romans 8:28, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.” (KJV) There are a time and place for every season under heaven. There are a time and place for this verse. I personally think it’s more harmful than helpful in the face of raw grief and more appropriate a year or two down the road when the bereaved can look back and hopefully recognize the fulfillment of this promise.
4. Be cognizant of the fact that believing God has filtered everything through His hands before allowing it to happen can lead a believer to blame God for the tragedies that befall them. In truth, spiritual warfare, an individual’s exercise of free will or the fall of man that affected all of nature are responsible for the death of their loved one. The fact that God allows bad things to happen to His children is not the same as causing bad things to happen. For all we know, Satan was tempting while God was pleading when another’s actions lead to the death of a loved one. “For ours is not a conflict with mere flesh and blood, but with the despotisms, the empires, the forces that control and govern this dark world–the spiritual hosts of evil arrayed against us in the heavenly warfare.” (Ephesians 6:12 ~ Weymouth New Testament).
5. Validate feelings. A grieving father who feels like beating the crap out of the person responsible for their child’s death is normal. It’s okay; it’s helpful actually to say, “I’d feel the same way if I were you.” Validating feelings in no way condones sinful actions. Feel free to tack on, “You’re not planning to act on that, are you?”, if in doubt.
6. Do NOT correct the emotions of the bereaved. Emotions are not right or wrong; they were designed by God and serve a purpose. A fellow 
mourning mother recently told me, “Emotions are for emoting.” How an individual responds to their emotions can be right or wrong but never simply expressing them. Do NOT tell the grief-stricken that they can’t or shouldn’t feel any given way or that their feelings are sinful!
7. Affirm the bereaved’s ability to continue on. Be there for them through cards, text messages, phone calls and lunch or dinner dates. Don’t take it personally if your call and invitations go unanswered. Simply try again another time.
8. Before you offer any advice, imagine yourself in that individual’s shoes; then personalize the advice. You are now the parent whose child just committed suicide. Consider how you might feel should someone tell you to count it all joy, or that God is good all the time, etc., before you offer any advice to the bereaved. Perspective changes when things get personal.
9. It is indeed rare for a bereaved person to continue in deep grief for an extended period of time (more than two years). There are always a few who never recover, however, Christians need to trust that God will heal the hearts of the bereaved as His word promises, in His time. There is a time to mourn and a time to dance (Ecclesiastes 3:4b KJV). When you encourage a fellow believer to move on, choose joy and be thankful for what they still have, you are, in effect, expressing that you yourself don’t trust God to heal their grief, but instead believe that the grief-stricken Christian must work to heal themselves.
Last October I came across this article (highlighted in red below) on the suicide of Patti Stevens by Rudolph Bush on the Opinion Page of The Dallas Morning News:
No, Patti Stevens wasn’t selfish. She was hurt.
As a member of the bereaved parent’s group, While We’re Waiting, I’ve encountered several parents of children who’ve committed suicide. It’s heartbreaking! It’s disturbing to read of children as young as 11 years of age, taking their own lives. I can only imagine the agony, the second guessing and the questions the grief stricken families are left struggling with. The impact on the entire family when a child dies (regardless of the means of death) is staggering (but that’s an article for another day).
Journalist, Rudolph Bush covered this topic well and he certainly got it right when he said of Patti Stevens, “She was trying, in a desperate, mistaken, terrible way, to stop hurting.” Bush’s comments were made in response to critics who contend that those who commit suicide are selfish. I also appreciate that he points out, “. . . the suicidal have fallen into a place where their sadness, fear and desperation have stripped away the ability to think and act rationally.”
Still, I think it’s a serious mistake when we assume, “Things would have gotten better.” That was probably true for Patti Stevens and a multitude of others who contemplate suicide, but it’s certainly not true in every situation which is why organizations such as Death with Dignity exist. It’s why assisted suicide is a hot button issue of our day. Don’t get me wrong, I am not a proponent of suicide at all, but we are naive if we fail to recognize that, in some situations, things will get worse.** Families coping with terminal illness, with addiction, and a number of other issues know, without doubt, that their circumstances will indeed get worse. They know more pain is on the horizon and they are afraid and desperately want to escape the pending heartbreak. When it’s true that things will get worse, we have to find a way to help people cope with that truth; to find purpose and meaning in life.
We’ve all heard the popular phrase, “everything happens for a reason” at some point in time; usually when something unpleasant transpires. Tim Lawrence wrote an article on that very topic. Mr. Lawrence used his article to strike out against the culturally common advice passed to people coping with trauma and grief – advice he refers to as “the debasing of the grieving”. In the piece published on his blog entitled, “The Adversity Within”, he shares this quote from Megan Devine, “Some things in life cannot be fixed. They can only be carried.” Of Ms. Devine’s quote he says,
“These words are so poignant because they aim right at the pathetic platitudes our culture has come to embody on a increasingly hopeless level. Losing a child cannot be fixed. Being diagnosed with a debilitating illness cannot be fixed. . . They can only be carried.”
We live in a culture that demands positivity. Obstacles are opportunities in disguise. If we can’t go around said obstacle, we must find a way over, through or under it. Nothing is impossible. We will overcome. We will conquer; by sheer force of will if necessary. And the underlying message is that, should we fail, we are incompetent or didn’t try hard enough.
We’ve been indoctrinated with the message that we must be able to turn every negative into a positive. Our culture as a whole no longer helps people work through their grief, instead we demand that they set it aside, suppress it, or spin it into an uplifting message – all the better if they can tie it up with a Biblical bow. As a result, we leave hurting people enmeshed in an internal battle pitting their normal need to express and work through their pain and sorrow against societies demand to find the silver lining and move forward.
If we sincerely want to reduce the suicide rate, we all have to learn to become comfortable with the bad and ugly aspects of life instead of pretending they don’t exist or glossing over them. We need to learn to acknowledge pain, validate feelings, and affirm the broken before they lose the ability to think and act rationally. In my experience, people want to be seen, to be understood and to feel as if they are not alone when their days turn dark. People can survive almost anything – they can learn to carry that which cannot be fixed – if we provide them with those things.
** The comments in this post in no way serve as permission to take one’s own life.
Print a copy of this National Suicide Prevention Lifeline image and stick it on your refrigerator.
It may save the life of someone you love.
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