Saturday, November 24, 2012


Eight months ago my sweet Piper died. We packed up our hotel room and came back to Georgia and planned a funeral. We spent the next few weeks in a daze...and I am not kidding. Chad and I have often looked at each other and been amazed at how little we remember from spring and summer.

Survival is like that, I guess.

And you know what? It gets harder. Every day it hurts more. Less people ask after you. The every day list of things to do becomes more daunting. Expectations begin to rise again and you feel the need to be less sad and more joyful when in reality there is little more than you would like to do than hide.

It's tricky to hide.

On top of grieving, which I would love to do emphatically, are responsibilities. And I for one am hating responsibilities. I am hating that Chad must go to school and work when he hurts so deeply. I am hating that my heart is so heavy I feel like I am constantly letting people down. And that's if I am around people because the more I hurt, the less I want to be around anyone. I want to hibernate and sleep and putter around my home which feels like a sanctuary.

Until someone breaks into our storage shed and steals Chads tools and drills and tackle boxes and my already fragile sense of security and leaves my Linley fearful of sleeping alone and wondering what exactly is God protecting us from if not death or theft.

Yes, that happened.

And when bills are piling up and health issues are arising and hearts are already so very heavy and disappointments abound and you feel frantic in your attempt to JUST KEEP YOUR SHIT realize you are not, indeed, keeping much of anything together. Despite trying. Despite hoping. Despite your scuffle to do all you can you are only treading water with a leaking life vest.

This is where we are.

Or at least this was where I was before today.

Today I planned to begin the process of decorating for Christmas. Last Christmas was filled with equal parts fear and hope...a tenuous balance at best. And yet we made ornaments with handprints and both Linley and Piper picked out their yearly ornament. I made 4 stockings and we placed the Nativity on the shelf. After doing all this the girls would spend each evening next to the tree checking out all the different and meaningful ornament and it was beautiful and it was normal.

Again, we were flooded with fear and hope.

And today when I went to pick up my decorations from the last place I remember seeing them, they were not there. And no one can remember where they went to. Rubbermaid containers filled with homemade ornaments and 1st Married Christmas ornaments and tree skirts and handprint decor and plastic candy canes and photos with smiling little girl faces....are all gone.

It was like losing all over. I am already aching to reach for Piper...there are no more memories to make with her, ever. I am missing the small years with Linley...I am yearning to see her color with the same intensity that she did when three years old. And the symbols of these brief moments with the girls are gone...I cannot find them and my home at Christmas this year will be stark.

Stark when I really, truly needed to feel full and really, truly needed to be reminded physically of some sweet moments.

So before today we felt beaten. Floated. Forgotten. Hurt. Fragile. Pick a painful adjective that works best for you.

And now, I am struggling to push, push, push down the despair that is creeping at me. The despair that threatens to outshadow my weak contentment with what little I do still hold. So often I feel the pressure to extoll God and his goodness and his mercy and joy and hope and yet, today I am putting all that in my pocket and sobbing for the hurt of it all.

So much is lost. My daughter, my security and some sweet symbols that once we held hope while living fear.


  1. Crying with you and praying for you...I am sorry....

  2. You are hurt and fragile and vulnerable. It is all so damn hard. Semding you love and hugs from another mama in pain. Praying your ornaments appear and that you feel pockets of peace tomorrow.

  3. Praying peace and blessings over your family, He will not abandon you x

  4. I know you don't know me but I truly wish I could hop in my van right now with my girls and come help you find those ornaments. I guess the next best thing is to pray until you post that they are found, so I will do that. They WILL be found. Sending you a big hug.

  5. My heart hurts for you. I'll be praying for you to find your precious decorations! I'm also available to help look for them!

  6. Oh Susanna. My heart hurts for you. I know how much those little things mean to me, and how devastated I would be if I couldn't find them... then I multiply it by ((a zillion??)) and can only imagine how it must feel for you. I will continue to pray. Is there anything else? Seriously? I know we don't know each other that well, but I hope that if Miriam has told you anything about me, it's that I mean what I say. And I mean it when I say that I want so badly to come alongside you in this, in any way I can. I most certainly will in prayer. But if there's a way to put hands & feet on my prayers, I am ready. Please email if you think of anything -

  7. Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
    Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
    Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
    Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

    Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
    I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
    Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
    Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

    Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;
    Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
    Thou my soul’s Shelter, Thou my high Tower:
    Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

    Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,
    Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
    Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
    High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

    High King of Heaven, my victory won,
    May I reach Heaven’s joys, O bright Heaven’s Sun!
    Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
    Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.


    1. It's been tough enough for me to decorate for Christmas the last three years. I can't imagine if I couldn't find anything at all. Sending prayers and hugs, my new friend, that some blessings and healing will find you.

  8. I don't know you but my heart breaks for you. Praying for your family and you as the mom to feel comforted and lifted up by Jesus.

  9. Lord you word say's their is nothing that is hidden that shall not be revealed. Or nothing lost that shall not be found. Please help Susan find these precious memories.

  10. I am so sorry. You, your family, Piper, are not forgotten.