Light the World with Love

October 23, 2013

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I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but it hasn’t.  (Though I’ve wished one million wishes that it would.)

I wish I could tell you that “time heals all wounds”, but it doesn’t.  (Time alone can’t heal all hurts.)

I wish I could tell you that God didn’t give me more than I could handle, but He did.  (Oh, did He ever.)

I wish I could tell you that the pain has lessened, but it hasn’t.  (I’ve just gotten used to carrying the heaviness around.)

I wish I could tell you that the thought of my little boy in heaven soothes my aching heart and empty arms, but it doesn’t.  (For me, the promise of heaven doesn’t take away the ache I feel every second of every day.)

I wish I could tell you that it’s not always there, but it is.  (Always.  Behind every smile, within every tear.)

I wish I could tell you it doesn’t still feel so much like torture now, but it still does.  (Every second apart from him is torture of the worst kind.)

I wish I could tell you that my life is better now than those first post-loss years, but it’s not.  (At least not in a way I can measure or feel.)

I wish I could tell you that when you’re as far down the road of grief as I am, you’ll feel differently than you do right now, but I can’t promise you that.

In fact, I can’t promise you much of anything, except that the burning love you have for your child will probably be the one sure thing that will save you.  That overwhelming love between you and your sweet baby will end up saving.  Your.  Life.  That much I can guarantee.

It will light every part of you on fire, it will fuel you to do things you never dreamed possible.  And with that fire, you, sweet mama, can change the world.  In big ways or in one million small ways.  And, small or large, they all matter.

Every.  Single.  Act of love.  Matters.

The love between you and your child is solely yours, and no one else’s.  No one can ever take it away from you.  It will never die.  And in all of time and space, it can’t ever be replicated, not ever, ever again.

That love is yours to hold forever.  Just as what you choose to do with it is also yours and only yours.  And you, as your precious child’s mama, are the only one who has the power to light that love on fire.

If there’s one secret to grief, I’d say it’s to let that fire, that burning love you have for your child, totally and utterly consume every single part of you.  Let it give you the inner strength to keep going.  Let it offer you the perseverance to get out of bed each morning, to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  Let it fuel your fearlessness to walk courageously down new paths, with your eyes and heart wide open.  Let it burn off the grief and ignite more love.  Let that love combust into more and more of it, then infinitely more, until nothing will be able to stop it from spreading.  Do everything and anything you can to fuel the fire and let the love you two share burn wildly.  Let it burn all fear to a crisp.  Let it forge endless new paths for you, so when you’re ready, you can follow its beautiful trail.

Please know that igniting the love, doesn’t mean negating the grief.  No.  That is the exact kindling and fuel you’ll need.

Let all of it– every single feeling you have– spark a flame that will spread your love like wildfire, branding the name of your sweet child on the world, everywhere it burns.

There may be nothing else that exists in the entire world with as much power for change as this.  Harness it.  It’s all yours for the taking, and all yours for the giving away.

All you have to do is light the love in your heart.

And then, watch it spread.

Photo credit:  Angela Miller




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    Angela Miller

    Angela Miller is a writer, speaker and grief advocate who provides support and solace to those who are grieving the loss of a child. She is the author of You Are the Mother Of All Mothers: A Message Of Hope For the Grieving Heart, founder of the award-winning online community A Bed for My Heart, writer for the Open to Hope Foundation and Still Standing Magazine. Angela writes candidly about child loss and grief without sugar coating the reality of life after loss. Her writing and her book have been featured in Forbes, Psychology Today, MPR, BlogTalk Radio, Open to Hope Radio and Writerly, among others. When she’s not writing, traveling, or healing hearts, you can find Angela making every moment count with her two beautiful, blue-eyed boys.

    1 Comments

    • Tracy

      December 15, 2015 at 1:45 pm

      I lost my daughter on May 20 2015…. She was 18yrs old… Her name was Mikeala but we called her Millie… She died in a car accident 2 weeks before her high school graduation… I bought your book… I want to tell you that you know and say exactly what I’m feeling!!!! I have 3 living children and I don’t know how I’m ever going to survive this loss…. Millie was not just my oldest daughter but my BEST FRIEND!!!! I MISS HER EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY!!

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