triggers of grief.

triggers of grief.

by Kathleen Moulton

As I’m writing this, the sound of  a meadowlark is outside my window.

This is one of the triggers of grief for me.  The clear notes of a meadowlark was the first to break the silence of my mornings for several days after losing my son. I wasn’t conscious of this until some time later. I began to make the association as I was strangely hurled back into the numbness of those weeks.

The meadowlark’s song used to be pretty.

But now it sounds forlorn.

I want to close the window. But such things cannot be shut out. They must be endured.

All who grieve will have triggers such as this. Sights, sounds, smells, and tastes.

We don’t “get over” grief.

We learn to live with it, recognizing it is now a part of our life.

Grief doesn’t own me now. I own it.

 

meadowlark

~~~

photo credit: kevincole / Foter / Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic (CC BY 2.0)

 

 

scripture friday.

scripture friday.

by Kathleen Moulton

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. 

I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

John 14:27

peace 2

~~~

photo credit:  Zaqqy J. / Foter / Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic (CC BY 2.0)

nurturing.

nurturing.

by Kathleen Moulton ♥ 1 Comment

Nurturing comes in many ways.

 

birds

Even if you weren’t nurtured the way you needed by the people you needed it from … someone nurtured you along the way.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

And then there is sunlight, water, and having your feet planted.

baby

Then there are the times when you do the nurturing, and you feel nurtured yourself.

Look around. There are many ways to nurture and be nurtured. Sometimes we get stuck in how we think about things. That’s because we feel the emptiness and it hurts.

Give and it shall be given.

~~~

photo credit:

John&Fish / Foter / Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)

Jason A. Samfield / Foter / Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Pink Sherbet Photography / Foter /Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic (CC BY 2.0)

survival.

survival.

by Kathleen Moulton

I visited the World Trade Center Memorial this past weekend. After the attack on 9-11, a severely damaged tree was found under the rubble.

ground zero

Against all odds, it survived.

Replanted to another location, it was nurtured to health, and brought back to the World Trade Center Memorial.

It is known as the survival tree.

On Saturday, new buds of hope and healing.

DSCN1936

If a tree can survive, can’t you?

~~~

photo credit:

New York City Parks & Recreation

Kathleen Moulton

 

scripture friday.

scripture friday.

by Kathleen Moulton ♥ 5 Comments

Today, not a scripture, but a quote worth reading.

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.  The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

-Theodore Roosevelt

sweat-7_l

~~~

photo credit: Shaylor / Foter / CC BY-ND

plant, water, wait.

plant, water, wait.

by Kathleen Moulton

I planted several of these tiny seeds.

DSCN1890

 

I covered them with soil.

I watered them.

I put them in a warm place.

I can’t make the seed grow. But I do my part.

In time, the seeds grow into plants.

spring 3

And in about 120 days, these tiny seeds will produce.

DSCN1173

In comparison to the Universe, you are as small as a seed.

You have something to produce.

Maybe you’ve become discouraged. You’ve lost. You’ve failed. You’ve tried over and over.

You know what?  It just means you showed up.

Try new things.

Have courage.

It’s not all up to you. Do your part.

Plant.

Water.

Wait.

~~~

 photo credit:  Kathleen Moulton

 

only believe.

only believe.

by Kathleen Moulton ♥ 2 Comments

Every year, I am amazed at the transformation that takes place from winter to spring. Ice and snow seem ripped away, exposing scarred lawns of dead grass.  Lifeless trees look ghostly against the sky.  And mud is everywhere, making everything look dirty.

But then, it happens.

The prelude begins with fresh, green shoots poking out from beneath dead leaves. Delicate buds form on the tree limbs. The mud disappears. And the gentle rain washes everything new.

Life is like that.

There are seasons of waiting, wondering, and yes, even weeping. Times of feeling like everything has been stripped away, leaving you exposed.

It won’t last forever.

God figured hope in the equation. And just like the hope of spring is a certainty, whatever you are going through will change – for certain.

Tomorrow is a new day. A new season awaits you.

Only believe.

spring-53_l

~~~

photo credit: Moyan_Brenn / Foter / CC BY-ND

scripture friday.

scripture friday.

by Kathleen Moulton

When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers,

the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,

what is mankind that you are mindful of them,

human beings that you care for them?

Psalm 8

river-of-stars_l

~~~

photo credit: herbraab / Foter / CC BY-NC-ND

a new day.

a new day.

by Kathleen Moulton

Spring is coming. It always comes. It never misses. Ever.

Jesus said the natural world helps us understand spiritual things – those things pertaining to God.

crocus-in-the-snow_l

You may be in the “winter” of life with many concerns that are covered with a blanket of uncertainty. Maybe you feel stuck between where you were and where you are going.

Whatever it is, spring will come. Just when you least expect it, something will change.

Wait for it with hope and anticipation!

~~~

Photo credit: mjhccl / Foter / CC BY-NC-SA

a mother’s grief.

a mother’s grief.

by Kathleen Moulton ♥ 6 Comments

Since my son died, there is a part of my heart that is numb.

It was fractured . Just like a broken bone, it mended.

But it doesn’t look the same. It doesn’t work the same.

Did you ever cut your hand? Even though it healed, there is a scar? Or it feels numb in that area?

It’s like that.

A part of my heart lost its feeling. I can’t remember the last time I felt that down deep, warm feeling about someone or something.

I want to. I so desperately miss that feeling. But it’s gone. It just doesn’t work.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not walking around like a shell. It may not be noticed by others.

But I notice.

I don’t dwell on this. That’s the key. You have to live with it. It doesn’t define who you are, but it definitely affects who you are.

And this is the hidden part that frustrates people because you are not who you once were.

If this describes you, you are not alone! We’re going to make it. We have to. There’s life to live and people to love!

But it’s a choice. Just like the person who is told they are unlikely to walk again, they do not focus on what they can’t do but what they can do…or might do!

And for me, I know God has covered that part of my heart, and protects it from further damage.

He wants to do that for you, too.

flower-photo_l

 ~~

photo credit: @Doug88888 / Foter / CC BY-NC-SA