In Light of Anguish

I booked a little mini-vacation for our family to go "camping." I use quotations because my idea of camping is in a small cabin with a full kitchen and bath... on a campground. My husband and two children traveled 45 minutes away from our home to a relatively local KOA campsite in Lillian, Alabama. We arrived around sunset. It was beautiful, peaceful, and quaint. There is a long steep downhill that leads to the bay, there's a playground, your very own fire pit, and other fun little things to do. It's not too much or too little, but it's just enough to get away.  We rented a Deluxe Cabin. One bedroom, futon couch, full kitchen, full bath, a television with basic channels and air conditioning. You know, classic camping. I brought along the book I'd been reading, Signs by Laura Lynne Jackson. I was about halfway through and started to read it while the kids played outside. I read a specific sentence that surprisingly stuck with me. Nothing profound. Just a date, ...

  Dear sweet, sweet friend, First off, you are not reading this by accident. The chances that you would come across this letter means that the Holy Spirit led you here. I'm so glad you're here. Secondly, I am so sorry for your loss. If you have lost a parent, I understand. I empathize. I am opening my arms with tears in my eyes. I am bringing you in and holding you tight. Holding. Exhale. Then I squeeze you just a little bit tighter. We are here together in this letter.  Thirdly, I am writing this letter in close proximity to the experience that I had as a child and adult. I am aware that not all experiences are like mine and if they are not, that's ok. I feel forever fortunate for my personal experience with my parents and I hope you have that in your life–even if it is not biological.  When you lose a parent, I have recognized a few things that happen. The first being disbelief. I feel like this is in part to us seeing our parents as giant characters in a story. They ar...

  God, what do you want?  I have asked this question a number of times. In the last two years I have struggled with the idea of what "my purpose" is.  When I think of one's greatest purpose, I think of the pinnacle of one's existence. Maybe it's a moment where you live as your highest self and feel the beauty and immense blessings of Christ. I've read books and sat in sermons that talk about, "stepping into your purpose." What does it all mean? I've thought about it so much more now that my Dad is gone. In the photo above, my purpose was to catch all the imaginary fish and count them very carefully while my mom took a video with her 1990s camera on her shoulder. Could it be that simple? To make the most of every moment of everyday? Is that too cliche to bear?  In my research of purpose, I read this line that dropped an anvil on my head. I have modified it, but the idea rings the same: When you live in your purpose, you  clarify the non-negotiable...

 In the beg inning... That's how most stories begin. The story of the creation of, In Light of Anguish, is a story that is devastating, yet hopeful. It is a blog that was created to help others connect and possibly understand their process of grief. A word that has more depth than grief–and is commonly used in the Bible–is anguish. If you were to type, "anguish," into the Google or on Dictionary.com, this is what you will find: an·guish /ˈaNGɡwiSH/ Learn to pronounce noun severe mental or physical pain or suffering. "she shut her eyes  in anguish " Anguish is used 103 times in the Bible. The first is in Genesis, when God discovers that Adam and Eve have eaten forbidden  fruit from the Garden of Eden. Eve was promised, "you will bear children in anguish." Anguish covers a multitude of feelings: guilt, pain, bondage, fear, love, and death.  In my personal reference, anguish to me describes the feeling of the loss of my father. I am 35-years-old and toda...