Fragile Flower

Fragile Flower

I looked at the mandevilla tonight,

And I saw three dainty pink blossoms there;

Although a marvelous thrill to my sight,

Beauteous blossoms proved more than I could bear...

The beauty of God pierced through to my soul;

The Creator God in all His finesse,

Created with care . . . but sin takes its toll . . .

My tears would soon water the flow’rs pink dress.

“My world was perfect, Miss Mandevilla,

Tied in a bow like your pretty blossom;

Now my world weeps like the weeping willow

Midst God’s world, still filled with beauty awesome.”

Each time I looked at each dainty pink flow’r

Radiating beauty, its only duty,

The tears again would quickly overpow’r,

Flooding mem’ries of my sweet baby’s beauty . . .

Lord, You’re so present in Your creation;

Each flower petal bears Your fingerprint!

Yet Satan’s presence in the equation

Will destroy it all . . . in devastation . . . ?!

Once I was strong, but now I’m rendered weak,

So strong: husband and children all ‘round me,

All full of Your love, Your will we did seek—

. . . Now plundered, ravaged by the Enemy.

When I see th’ beauteous mandevilla, Lord,

I catch a glimpse of Heaven filled with You:

No sin, no decay, no devastation . . .

Just You—worshipped by saints—their reward:

To live daily within Your Heavenly view,

In robes washed white, restored to perfection.

But I—I’m still here Lord—dealing with death,

Grieving through each day, though I take life’s breath,

With glimpses of You, but living in hell . . .

How to live in vic’try? Would someone pray tell?

Meanwhile, You say, “My grace is sufficient,

For My pow’r is made perfect in weakness;

Ev’rywhere Satan makes you deficient,

Enables Me to shine . . . through your meekness . . .”

O Creator God, You’ll overpower

Satan’s destruction of each fragile flower . . .

You've already restored my baby girl!

. . . Grant me grace to live in this broken world. . .

Lord, may I be like each dainty pink flow’r,

Radiating (Your) Beauty, my only duty,

And when my tears quickly overpow’r,

Flood my memory with Your awesome beauty. . .

http://infogizmo.com/downhome/flowers1.html

Written 7/22/09 – Fragile Flower – Angie Bennett Prince

Losing My Mind

Losing My Mind

God, my family thinks I’m losing my mind,

And some days I have thoughts of the same kind...

They’ll tell me something, and minutes later,

I’ll forget...my mind filled with things graver...

Like death, dying, and where’s my baby girl?!

My mind is spinning; my brain is awhirl—

Nothing’s no longer right in this wrong world!

I don’t belong here, without my li’l girl....

Into a living nightmare I’ve been hurled

Where thoughts and beliefs and feelings just swirl,

But no matter how I pine and ponder,

My mind cannot rest, but starts to wander:

Is there some thing I can DO t’ make it right . . .

To end this horrible state of my plight?

And please don’t tell me she’s not coming back;

I cannot take a life filled with such lack!

We went through Father’s Day; she wasn’t there—

It felt so wrong ...our fam'ly circle, square?

Voices so lively, yet SHE wasn’t there!

On a day so special, her place was bare...

How do I go on, a hole in my heart,

A knife in my gut? My world falls apart...

So, no, I don’t think so clearly just now;

My mind can’t conceive of just where or how

Life should go on; who am I anyhow—

A counselor with no heart? – We can’t allow

Clients to come in, to talk problems out

With the counselor whose heart has been ripped out!

So I guess it’s going to take awhile

Till my heart, soul, and spirit reconcile

That th' horrible absence that is present…

Is just part of our heav’nly investment—

She is now wearing her heav'nly vestment…

Though absent here, she is very present…

In the stillness, we will feel her essence

As she blesses our hearts with her presence.

But if we’re not quiet, we might miss her...

Quiet our minds...for by faith we’ll see her!

Quiet me now, with Your comfort draw near,

Till that Day my baby girl will appear...

Picture: Angel & Butterfly card.jpg

Written 6/22/09 - Poem – Losing My Mind – Angie Bennett Prince

Heavenly "Facebook" with My Child

. . . (My) soul . . . resumed talk with my loved one: I asked her questions, and she answered; she questioned me in return, and I answered . . . .

Love goes far beyond the physical person of the beloved. It finds its deepest meaning in his spiritual being, his inner self. Whether or not he is still alive at all, ceases somehow to be of importance . . . .

(N)othing (not even death) could touch the strength of my love, my thoughts, and the image of my beloved . . . . I think that I would still have given myself, undisturbed by (the) knowledge (of her death) to the contemplation of her image, and that my mental conversation with her would have been just as vivid and just as satisfying.

Set me as a seal upon thy heart, love is as strong as death.*

--Viktor E. Frankl, while trying to cope in a concentration camp, not knowing whether his beloved wife was dead or alive.
Man's Search for Meaning
* Song of Solomon 8:6a

* * * * * * * * * *

Indeed, devastating grief is ultimately resolved this way. By experiencing the presence of the lost loved one inside of us, and sensing the way they are carried within our hearts, keeping us company, continuing to advise, inspire, and find unique value in us, we manage.

We still "have" them. We see their faces, hear their words, smile at their foibles, hold conversations with them, laugh with them, scold them, and embrace them still. In an absolute and immutable way, they still exist.

Eventually the comfort of the image takes over for the flesh-and-blood reality. We slowly trade anguish for sweet sorrow, draw nourishment from the inner companion, and transcend the loss, thanks to the gentle resourcefulness of the imaginal realm. This is the historical reason why imagery is a powerful tool that all of us know well. We leaned on it from our baby days (playing peekaboo with our mommies, we learn they are still there even though we temporarily cannot see them). It gets us through and allows us to tolerate separation and loss.

Imagery is the blankie all of us adults get to carry around--on the inside.
(Such) imagery works so well to heal the effects of (grief's) trauma.

Belleruth Naparstek,
Invisible Heroes: Survivors of Trauma and How They Heal

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The above quotes are part of my follow-up to my letter to Digger in his comment on my first post, dated February 2, 2009:

"Parents Losing a Teenager to Death - A Glimpse of Grief After Two and a Half Years"

Grieving Mother/Therapist, Angie Bennett Prince said... in response to Digger's comment . . .

"I also find I weep the hardest when I hear good gospel music, and it's like a cleansing deep in my soul." Digger

Dear Digger,

I agree! I don't know what it is about music (and particularly gospel music) that short-circuits the left brain and heads right for the right brain (and most likely, the soul), but it really does!

The book Invisible Heroes: Survivors of Trauma and How They Heal by Belleruth Naparstek reveals that the most current research in the field of psychology finds that "right-brain" activity (emotional/sensory functions of perception, sensation, emotion, movement) is the most important factor in healing trauma in a person! Staying too much in the "left-brain" (cognitive functions of thinking, analyzing, verbalizing and synthesizing) early on in one's attempts at healing can actually impede healing of trauma, (but can be very helpful in conjunction with right-brain activity after the right-brain activity has been established first).

Stay tuned, I will try to write about this phenomenon in a post on my blog soon as I think it is vital for us grievers to understand some of the most effective pathways to comfort and healing for our broken hearts!

Thank you for sharing what helps you express your grief, and the resulting "cleansing" of your soul that your weeping produces!

May God bless you and continue to comfort you in your grief,

Angie
April 1, 2009 11:59 AM

* * * * * * * * * *

From time to time, I find real treasures of books in my line of psychological counseling work; this book is one of those. It ushers in the latest research into the most effective counseling procedures to help the grieving person.

If you have a therapist, you might want to make sure they know of the late-breaking, revolutionary ways of approaching the traumatized in their healing work as the usual "talk-therapy" of the average therapist is not the most therapeutic first-mode of treatment to utilize; not only is "talk-therapy" not indicated initially in therapy with a griever; talk-therapy-only in the initial stages of therapy can actually be harmful to the traumatized griever. Attention to the right (emotive, creative) brain is critical for creating a base of safety to your emotionally-traumatized being before trying to process the left (analytical, verbal) brain to continue the healing process of integrating your severe loss and all its implications into who you are today.

May the One who someday will wipe away all the tears of His lambs, continue to comfort you in your grief,

Angie

The Stone

Angie Bennett Prince July, 2007

We go today to plan your stone.
We don't want to go there--it chills us to the bone.
We miss you and want you here;
We think of you and shed more tears.

The funeral home wonders where we've been;
Eleven months now--will our hearts ever mend?
I tried to explain the difficulty one day on the phone:
The last thing we ever wanted to happen--
We now have to carve in stone?!

So we go there today in God's strength alone
To carve your precious name upon that stone
Only because we know for you death is not the end;
On that fateful day, your life in Heaven did just begin!

And since for your sins and ours Christ did atone,
We know we will join you in Heaven
To worship our Lord around His throne.
Because some day, just as He did for Jesus
When the disciples thought He was gone,
For those of us who know Him, and by Him are known,
God--in His resurrection power--will come down
Himself to earth again to roll back all the stones!


Be sure to listen to "Then Came the Morning" (see the sidebar to the left) before or after reading my poem!

God's Comfort in the Midst of Raw Grief . . .

Last night was hard. My husband and I were listening to music; I was writing a poem about my baby. When we heard Vince Gill's "Go Rest High On that Mountain" (see words below; this song is one of our favorites as it so aptly describes our baby's dilemma), our grief went back to square one. My husband said he cried as hard as he did that first day . . . So did I.

God continues to be SO sweet to meet us in our grief: "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." . . .

So then we immediately heard Dottie Rambo's "Sheltered in the Arms of God" - from Bill and Gloria Gaither's "Reunion-Precious Memories" (see words below); it was like our baby wanted to remind us- that's where I am now -- sheltered safely in the arms of God!

Go Rest High On that Mountain (Vince Gill) [You can view and hear Vince singing this beautifully inspired song he wrote at the time of his brother's death on the sidebar YouTube to the left of this page; it has meant so much to us as well!]

I know your life on earth was troubled, And only you could know the pain. You weren't afraid to face the devil, Were no stranger to the rain.

Go rest high on that mountain; Son you work on earth is done. Go to Heaven a-shoutin' - Love for the Father and the Son.

Oh, how we cried the day you left us, Gathered round your grave to grieve. Wish I could see the angels' faces When they hear your sweet voice sing.

Go rest high on that mountain; Son, your work on earth is done. Go to Heaven a-shoutin' - Love for the Father and the Son. Go to heaven a-shoutin' - Love for the Father and the Son.

Sheltered in the Arms of God (Dottie Rambo)

I feel the touch of hands so kind and tender, They're leading me in paths that I must trod; I'll have no fear 'cause Jesus walks beside me, And I'm sheltered in the arms of God. So let the storms rage high, the dark clouds rise, They won't worry me for I'm sheltered safe within the arms of God; He walks with me and naught of Earth shall harm me, For I'm sheltered in the arms of God.

Soon I shall hear the call from Heaven's portals, Come on home my child, it's the last mile you have to trod; I'll fall asleep and I'll wake up in God's new Heaven, sheltered safe within the arms of God. So let the storms rage high, the dark clouds rise, They won't worry me for I'm sheltered safe within the arms of God; He walks with me and naught of Earth shall harm me, For I'm sheltered in the arms of God.

Soon I shall hear the call from Heaven's portals, Come on home my child, it's the last mile you have to trod; I'll fall asleep and I'll wake up in God's new Heaven, sheltered safe within the arms of God. So let the storms rage high, the dark clouds rise, They don't worry me for I'm sheltered safe within the arms of God; He walks with me and naught of Earth shall harm me, For I'm sheltered in the arms of God.

So let the storms rage high, the dark clouds rise, They don't worry me for I'm sheltered safe within the arms of God; He walks with me and naught of Earth shall harm me, For I'm sheltered safe in the arms of God.

Then Bill Gaither had his folks sing my daddy's favorite hymn, "I Come to the Garden Alone" after Dottie Rambo's song:

And He walks with me and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own, And the joys we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known!

I could just picture her sheltered in God's loving arms, and walking and talking with Him as He loves and comforts her. God is so sweet, so gentle, ever reminding us she's now safely carried in His arms.

Parents Losing a Teenager to Death - A Glimpse of Grief After Two and a Half Years

“I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.” C. S. Lewis ...

My husband and I have been grieving now for two and a half years. Grief is so painful! I have to continually get in touch (emotionally, mentally, and spiritually) with my grief to get it "exhumed" from the inside to come to the consciousness and be expressed out so that it doesn't just build up (to later come out when I least expect it or to get expressed inappropriately). [I have a counseling practice, so I have to keep my grief flowing for this reason as well, or any unresolved "counter-transference" might affect my clients negatively.]

Grief without rest doesn't mix well. Grieving is exhausting work--I'm facing the deepest loss possible--every parent's worst nightmare--so it is not easy to do; it therefore takes a toll on my body physically. But rest, eating well, taking vitamins, exercising (which I am now starting to do a little more of), and anti-depressants if necessary, are crucial to supporting my over-stressed system. Talking to a safe person about my grief is also critical; for me, my safe person is my husband--he is very tender, patient, and accepting plus he knows the grief as well; he is going through his own! We try to support one another which works fairly well (until our timing collides, and we're both down at the same times. Those are times when it's especially important to have a close relationship with our Heavenly Father!)

Which brings me to--what helps me THE most in processing my grief--is the continuous presence of my Heavenly Father who is carrying me through this grief on a daily, moment-by-moment basis. One tool He has given me as I walk through my grief is to continually write out my grief -- in prayers to Him, poetry, essays, etc. The pain is there, but it is poignant in the writing, and then God's Holy Spirit comes into the process to bring His perspective and His comfort -- and His challenging my faulty thinking when appropriate!-- and there is a relief after the intense outpouring of hurt, pain, questions, confusion, etc. Over time, you can see the healing as you are writing, plus, the former writings continue to be a therapeutic tool to review and grieve through as necessary! I tell people, yes God is IN the grief; God is not an anesthetic to numb the grief--the pain is still there-- but He meets me IN the grief, and walks through it WITH me.

May God bless you in your grief, or in your concern for a beloved griever.