A Withered Heart

Tomorrow marks a huge milestone in my grief journey.   A decade without Emma Grace.   I noticed my attitude and disposition changing about a week ago.  At first it was me just feeling blue.  Maybe no one realized what was going on. Maybe they won’t catch on to what’s going on inside.  Then, I felt a little agitated with my family, even going to confession Friday morning. Trying to shake off the pangs of my grief that was boiling up and trying to resurface.  Mass was beautiful for first Friday. I tried offering up my suffering to The Sacred Heart, but I just couldn’t get past the feeling of shock that was going on inside of me.   10 whole years without her.    I was sad. I was mad. I wanted her back.   Sunday, I felt a wave of depression come over me. It was happening all over again.  A mother’s love last forever, even when those who are healthy leave home, and have their own families. Nothing separates a mother’s love for her child.  Time doesn’t make the love you have in your heart for your child go away.   A tomb couldn’t either.

Tomorrow marks a huge milestone in my grief journey.

A decade without Emma Grace.

I noticed my attitude and disposition changing about a week ago.

At first it was me just feeling blue.

Maybe no one realized what was going on. Maybe they won’t catch on to what’s going on inside.

Then, I felt a little agitated with my family, even going to confession Friday morning. Trying to shake off the pangs of my grief that was boiling up and trying to resurface.

Mass was beautiful for first Friday. I tried offering up my suffering to The Sacred Heart, but I just couldn’t get past the feeling of shock that was going on inside of me.

10 whole years without her.

I was sad. I was mad. I wanted her back.

Sunday, I felt a wave of depression come over me. It was happening all over again.

A mother’s love last forever, even when those who are healthy leave home, and have their own families. Nothing separates a mother’s love for her child.

Time doesn’t make the love you have in your heart for your child go away.

A tomb couldn’t either.

It’s been a whole decade without her.  It’s a struggle trying to remember the sound of her voice, her little sweet phrases, and the way she smelled.  All the times we were shopping and she would question random strangers asking for information about their life.  “What’s your name.” “Where do you live.” “Who is your mama and daddy.”  There were so many questions at only 3 years old.  I often times get mad at myself because grief has clouded my thoughts for so long that it’s hard to remember the beauty of her life. All I have left are snippets of items that spoke to the length of her life, pictures, and a few videos to remind me of the time we had with her.  Her smell is gone.  Her embrace is forgotten.  Her love only shines through the rays of the clouds.  Is it enough?  Can I go on?  Questions that my heart contemplates often.  The struggle is real.  And no I can’t explain how I feel to someone who hasn’t lost a child. It’s like trying to explain what child birth is like to someone who hasn’t given birth.  You have to experience it to understand and wrap your mind around why after 10 years it still stings my heart in ways I never imagined possible.  I honestly thought time would heal my heart, but I was wrong. There is only one person who can, that I’ve come to know.  Child loss changes who you are.  I’ve struggles for a long time with offering God my withered heart, because honestly I was so mad at God, longer than I haven’t been.  I wasted so much of my energy allowing myself to remain broken, withered, alone, afraid, masked, and not stretching out my heart to him.  Why couldn’t I be obedient like the man in today’s gospel?  I felt so ashamed for so long that I couldn’t carry my Cross. But God knew how tender He needed to be with and allowed me to contemplate what He was doing inside my heart.  His grace became sufficient, but it took some time to understand what that meant.

It’s been a whole decade without her.

It’s a struggle trying to remember the sound of her voice, her little sweet phrases, and the way she smelled.

All the times we were shopping and she would question random strangers asking for information about their life.

“What’s your name.” “Where do you live.” “Who is your mama and daddy.”

There were so many questions at only 3 years old.

I often times get mad at myself because grief has clouded my thoughts for so long that it’s hard to remember the beauty of her life. All I have left are snippets of items that spoke to the length of her life, pictures, and a few videos to remind me of the time we had with her.

Her smell is gone.

Her embrace is forgotten.

Her love only shines through the rays of the clouds.

Is it enough?

Can I go on?

Questions that my heart contemplates often.

The struggle is real.

And no I can’t explain how I feel to someone who hasn’t lost a child. It’s like trying to explain what child birth is like to someone who hasn’t given birth.

You have to experience it to understand and wrap your mind around why after 10 years it still stings my heart in ways I never imagined possible.

I honestly thought time would heal my heart, but I was wrong. There is only one person who can, that I’ve come to know.

Child loss changes who you are.

I’ve struggles for a long time with offering God my withered heart, because honestly I was so mad at God, longer than I haven’t been.

I wasted so much of my energy allowing myself to remain broken, withered, alone, afraid, masked, and not stretching out my heart to him.

Why couldn’t I be obedient like the man in today’s gospel?

I felt so ashamed for so long that I couldn’t carry my Cross. But God knew how tender He needed to be with and allowed me to contemplate what He was doing inside my heart.

His grace became sufficient, but it took some time to understand what that meant.

Today’s gospel talked about the suffering man with a withered hand (See Luke 6:8)  God always knows what our hearts are going through, and shows us how tender He needs to be with us. It’s not just our withered limb that is at stake, but our spiritual life.  We can’t surrender to our spiritual death, even if it feels like it’s our only option. It isn’t we have a choice..  It’s our heart that needs the most healing.  I haven’t always been willing to offer Him the parts of my grief that were the hardest for me.  I didn’t know if I would extend and open my heart, what was going to happen.  If I opened that part of me it would require trust and surrender, but I didn’t know if I could trust Him to heal me.  It has taken me a long time to get to a place of trust.    Saturday morning I was gifted with time to spend with my  Red Bird  mamas prayerfully planning our grieving mother’s retreat.  We did a pulse check on each other to see where we were in our own grief.  As I sat, listened, and loved on each of them, I was shown that none of us live in a time of complete healing. Even years after loss.  We are constantly offering ourselves before God, extended our hearts and our hands asking for healing.  Stretching and growing our whole selves with His help.   I’ve learned over the years, that I can’t do this alone. A journey of grief is harder without His help. I need God, even when I was at the point of suffering through the muddy water and refusing to admit I needed help.     I can’t tell you what all has transpired over the course of the last 10 years, but what I do know is that God healed me, and my  daughter saved my life .    I know today that I have a chance for heaven. That may not have been possible 10 years ago.  The woman who I was then is not the woman I am today.  When I realized how much I changed, and seconded it by family the same, it was so disheartening to realize what happens in grief.  The old me died more than 10 years ago when Talon and Emma Grace died.  I could be upset that she doesn’t exist anymore, but to be honest with all you,  I like this me much better.      Emma Grace’s did indeed change me, but I know that God restored my withered heart. The rose at the top and the rose below signifies the restoration of my heart. My prayer is that He will restore yours as well.      But we first have to be willing and obedient to stretch our your withered heart, and invite Him in.

Today’s gospel talked about the suffering man with a withered hand (See Luke 6:8)

God always knows what our hearts are going through, and shows us how tender He needs to be with us. It’s not just our withered limb that is at stake, but our spiritual life.

We can’t surrender to our spiritual death, even if it feels like it’s our only option. It isn’t we have a choice..

It’s our heart that needs the most healing.

I haven’t always been willing to offer Him the parts of my grief that were the hardest for me.

I didn’t know if I would extend and open my heart, what was going to happen.

If I opened that part of me it would require trust and surrender, but I didn’t know if I could trust Him to heal me.

It has taken me a long time to get to a place of trust.

Saturday morning I was gifted with time to spend with my Red Bird mamas prayerfully planning our grieving mother’s retreat.

We did a pulse check on each other to see where we were in our own grief.

As I sat, listened, and loved on each of them, I was shown that none of us live in a time of complete healing. Even years after loss.

We are constantly offering ourselves before God, extended our hearts and our hands asking for healing.

Stretching and growing our whole selves with His help.

I’ve learned over the years, that I can’t do this alone. A journey of grief is harder without His help. I need God, even when I was at the point of suffering through the muddy water and refusing to admit I needed help.

I can’t tell you what all has transpired over the course of the last 10 years, but what I do know is that God healed me, and my daughter saved my life.

I know today that I have a chance for heaven. That may not have been possible 10 years ago.

The woman who I was then is not the woman I am today.

When I realized how much I changed, and seconded it by family the same, it was so disheartening to realize what happens in grief.

The old me died more than 10 years ago when Talon and Emma Grace died.

I could be upset that she doesn’t exist anymore, but to be honest with all you, I like this me much better.

Emma Grace’s did indeed change me, but I know that God restored my withered heart. The rose at the top and the rose below signifies the restoration of my heart. My prayer is that He will restore yours as well.

But we first have to be willing and obedient to stretch our your withered heart, and invite Him in.

He restored me.     St. Emma Grace, please intercede for us.  For the grace of strength and peace in the heartache of what 10 years without you has brought into our hearts.  There is a veil between us and Heaven where you are waiting for us.  We promise to love and serve God so that we can experience Heaven with you one day.  We love you so much.    Love mama.

He restored me.

St. Emma Grace, please intercede for us.

For the grace of strength and peace in the heartache of what 10 years without you has brought into our hearts.

There is a veil between us and Heaven where you are waiting for us.

We promise to love and serve God so that we can experience Heaven with you one day.

We love you so much.

Love mama.

Kelly Breaux