
Grief Video found at
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xEvsJtrl60
Welcome! I am Angie B. Prince, child of God, wife of Tommy, mother of 3, Grief and Trauma Life Coach, Psychotherapist, and Mother Grieving. On 8/2/2006, our precious 19-yr-old daughter Merry Katherine was killed along w/ 2 other teens via vehicular manslaughter. Here I share as we agonizingly process our grief and trauma. Email: MotherGrieving(at)gmail(dot)com. Coaching (Tommy or Angie): Call 865-548-4four3four / Counseling (Angie in TN) 865-604-9nine9two. I pray God will minister to you here.
Blessed Christmas! Spending Christmas without Merry There are no halls decked with holly There are no peop...
He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart.
Isaiah 40:11b


Friday's Faith
God Answers "A Grieving Mother's 'Day Off'"
To the poem I wrote on Tuesday's Trust, today I bring you on Friday's Faith, God's response... But first, the poem:
A Grieving Mother's "Day Off"
It's a day off ~ you'd think I'd have no cares.
I go to sleep ~ awaken to nightmares...
You needed help ~ there was no help I'd find;
I saw the one ~ who'd always helped... was blind.
Is this my life ~ suspended in mid-air?
What is my crime? For you, I'll always care.
A mommy's love ~ should soothe your hurts away.
But when I look ~ I see you've gone away.
Your heart's at rest ~ may that sink in, I pray.
My God knows best ~ He holds you close today.
Your mommy tried ~ she couldn't reach your heart.
And now you've died ~ and now we are apart.
I guess you know ~ you're always in my heart.
I'll see you soon ~ Would someone tell my heart?
I continue to cry out. . .
My heart's broken ~ Your loss tears me apart. . .
God, come quickly ~ Please soothe this mommy's heart.
God responds . . .
Come to Me, all you who are weak and burdened,
And I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you
and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart,
and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke
is easy and My burden is light.
My child, I am here.
Here is My heart; it's available to you.
God, I saw my father in my dreams,
and he was blind to me....
I am not blind My child; My eyes ever see.
God, this love is killing me ~
She is not here to receive it.
Like a mother whose milk
Longs to be poured out
And aches when the child cannot be found.
My child, I am ever here to pour
My love out on you.
See that you can be found.
My heart, too, aches when you cannot be found.
God, I draw near to You;
I starve for Your love, I thirst for
Your love. Grief is a barren
desert where no water can be found.
I cannot subsist
without Your sustenance. May I
suckle at Your breast, My Father
and Mother God. You are my
parent ~ You are not blind to me.
You draw near; my every need You see.
Forgive me for my busyness.
Give me new eyes -- Thee to see.
My heart longs for water in this
dry and weary land. Oh Father, come to me!
I John 4:12b
If we love each other, God lives in us and His love is made complete in us.
1 John 4:9-10
This is how God showed His love among you: He sent His One and Only Son into the world that we might live through Him. This is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.
As much as I love Merry Katherine, and long for her ~
she had to leave;
she was taken from me ~
I didn't give her up...
Yet God's suffering love, loved His Son, yet lovingly chose to suffer by sending Him to us, sending Him to die that we, with Him, might live.
Such love AMAZES me!!!
Such love suckles me.
Such love nurtures me.
Such love soothes me.
*****
God’s family is a sorrowing family. “I have chosen you,” he says, “in the furnace of affliction. I will leave in the midst of you a poor and an afflicted people.” The history of the church finds its fittest emblem in the burning yet unconsumed bush which Moses saw. Man is “born to sorrow;” but the believer is “appointed thereunto.”
It would seem to be a condition inseparable from his high calling. If he is a “chosen vessel,” it is, as we have just seen, in the “furnace of affliction.” If he is an adopted child, “chastening” is the distinguishing mark. If he is journeying to the heavenly kingdom, his path lies through “much tribulation.” If he is a follower of Jesus, it is to “go unto him outside the camp, bearing his reproach.” But, if his sufferings abound, much more so do his consolations. To be comforted by God, and to be comforted as a mother comforts her child, may well reconcile us to any sorrow with which it may please our heavenly Father to invest us!
God comforts his sorrowful ones with the characteristic love of a mother. That love is proverbial. No line can fathom it, no eloquence can depict it, no poetry can paint it. Attempt, if you will, to impart brilliance to the diamond, or perfume to the rose, but attempt not to describe a mother’s love. Who created the relation, and who inspired its affection? That God who comforts his people with a love like hers. And what is a mother’s affection—fathomless and indescribable as it is—but as a drop from the infinite ocean of God’s love!
Did ever a mother love her offspring as God loves his? Never! Did she ever peril her life for her child? She may. But God sacrificed his life for us. See the tenderness with which that mother alleviates the suffering, soothes the sorrow of her mourning one. So does God comfort his mourners. O there is a tenderness and a delicacy of feeling in God’s comforts which distances all expression. There is no harsh reproof—no unkind upbraiding—no unveiling of the circumstances of our calamity to the curious and unfeeling eye—no heartless exposure of our case to an ungodly and censorious world; but with all the tender, delicate, and refined feeling of a mother, God, even our Father, comforts the sorrowful ones of his people.
He comforts in all the varied and solitary griefs of their hearts. Ah! there may be secrets which we cannot confide even to a mother’s love, sorrows which we cannot lay even upon a mother’s heart, grief which cannot be reached even by a mother’s tenderness; but God meets our case! To him, in prayer, we may uncover our entire hearts; to his confidence we may entrust our profoundest secrets; upon his love repose our most delicate sorrows; to his ear confess our deepest departures; before his eye spread out our greatest sins.
“As one whom his mother comforts, so will I comfort you.”
~Octavius Winslow
Isaiah 49:14-16
New International Version 1984 (NIV1984)
14 But Zion said, “The LORD has forsaken me,
the Lord has forgotten me.”
15 “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast
and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget,
I will not forget you!
16 See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
your walls are ever before me.
Isaiah 66:12-14
New International Version 1984 (NIV1984)
12 For this is what the LORD says:
“I will extend peace to her like a river,
and the wealth of nations like a flooding stream;
you will nurse and be carried on her arm
and dandled on her knees.
13 As a mother comforts her child,
so will I comfort you;
and you will be comforted over Jerusalem.”
14 When you see this, your heart will rejoice
and you will flourish like grass;
the hand of the LORD will be made known to his servants,
but his fury will be shown to his foes.


Monday's Mourning Ministry
"It's like hell in slow motion, all the time."
~David Grossman
*
A Mother's Guttural Cry
*
Keeper of My Heart ~Swingin' Bridge
David Grossman: It's like hell in slow motion, all the time
It's a painful life, now. It's like hell in slow motion, all the time. I don't try to escape grief. I face grief in an intense way in my writing, but not only in my writing. If I have to suffer, I want to understand my situation thoroughly. It's not an easy place to be, but so be it. If I'm doomed to it, I want-- it's a human predicament, and I want to experience it....
Anything that is calm and safe seems to me like an illusion.
~David Grossman (1954- ), Israeli novelist, in an interview with Jonathan Shainin in the Paris Review, Fall 2007. His youngest son, Uri, was killed in August 2006 during the Israeli offensive in Lebanon. (highlights mine)
*****
No One Can Tell a Grieving Parent How, When, nor How Long to Grieve
A Mother's Guttural Cry
When I consider the moon and the stars,
The works of Your fingers, the budding flow'r,
I know O Lord, Your power reaches far...
I am ever weak, but You have power,
So not only can You take care of me,
You hold me in Your arms ~ You care for me!
Your Love ~ more tender than I could have dreamed!
I may feel unlovable, but You deemed
That I am Your cherished child ~ Your bride
To whom You share Yourself, in me confide.
To You, I cry out an anguished guttural cry
over my child...my child!
~ now dead, now gone! ~
You hear my plaintive cry...
As before, I've been shunned, overlooked, passed by,
But none of those can be the judge of me ~
You're here ~ I catch a glimpse as You pass by...
No one can be my judge ~ neither they, nor I,
For not one understands ~ not even I ...
*****
The groans of the dying rise from the city,
and the souls of the wounded cry out for help.
But God charges no one with wrongdoing.
~ Job 24:12
In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.
~Romans 8:26
*****
"What parent can resist the desperate cries of his or her child? The call of the shofar is our raw guttural cry to our Father in Heaven."
~Chana Weisberg
Check out this link for a Jewish example of the guttural cry we cry out to our Heavenly Father:
http://www.chabad.org/985027
*****
Keeper of My Heart
~Swingin' Bridge
Brush Arbor Live!
Sometimes fear will grip our heart
Just thinkin' of what lies ahead...
Depression soon moves in on me
Drives me to my bed...
Who will rescue this heart of mine
and keep me from falling apart?
Relief always comes shining through
From the Keeper of my heart...
Keeper of my heart, I will rest in You
Securely cradled in Your arms
I can make it through...
When storm clouds gather over me
and my road seems so dark,
I will find my rest in You,
The Keeper of my heart!
Sometimes I can lose my way
with dark clouds over me
And light that once seemed so bright
Now I can't see...
Gentle arms surround my soul
Causing the storm clouds to part
Darkness soon gives way to light
From the Keeper of my heart.
Keeper of my heart, I will rest in You
Securely cradled in Your arms
I can make it through...
When storm clouds gather over me
and my road seems so dark,
I will find my rest in You,
The Keeper of my heart!
Yes I will find my rest in You
The Keeper of my heart!

Song: Thanking Vicky from http://www.refractedlite.blogspot.com for this song, new to me!
/http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8L8CRRadsoE&feature=player_embedded
David Grossman's writing: http://www.consolatio.com/on_the_death_of_a_child/
Poem - No One Can Tell a Grieving Parent How, When, nor How Long to Grieve: A Mother's Guttural Cry - Angie Bennett Prince - 7/10/2009