One of the major themes in Shadow Dancing is the grief over losing a child. I’ve suffered all kinds of grief, as has anyone who’s walked this earth. And although I had a season of great loss, (which you can read about on my website if you choose), I never lost a child to death. But friend and fellow author Jane Daly has, so I asked if she could share what it was like to walk through that most difficult trial.
Although this post doesn’t publish until April 12th, I’m writing and scheduling it only a few days after the horrific Christian school shooting in Nashville—which transpired on March 27th. My heart has been so broken over this senseless loss, I’ve not been able to write about it. But it’s interesting that Shadow Dancing is coming out only a few short weeks after that incident. I cannot imagine there is anything more difficult than losing a young child—and in such a violent manner. So, I hope and pray as you hear Jane’s words, they will minister to you as they have me. I have included below this video the actual words in case you’d like to keep them, along with Jane’s website so you can connect with her and see what marvelous things she has to offer her readers.
The death of a child has been called the greatest loss. Nothing prepares a mother for the passing of a child. A mother carries a baby inside for nine months. He’s part of her. He shares her food and air. He feels his mother’s emotions, hears her voice. They’re connected by something greater than the slim tether of umbilical cord.
Love at first sight becomes more than a romantic ideal. From the moment a baby is born, he’s the sole object of her adoration. He’s perfect, beautiful. He’ll be the smartest, cutest, best baby ever born. In this one brief moment, we mirror God, having created a person solely dependent upon us for everything. We get a glimpse and better understanding of God’s great and sacrificial love for us as we sacrifice for our child. We have a firmer grasp of God’s providential care as we provide for our children’s needs.
As a baby grows, a mother is his world. When he cries, he wants his mother. When he’s hungry, he needs his mother. How many times have you seen a child fall and scrape his knee? The first thing he says is, “I want my mommy!” We foresee a bright, shiny future for our children. We want for them everything that’s been denied to us. The opportunities we’ve let slip by, we grasp onto for our child.
Everything changes when he is snatched away. Like a head-on collision, the world stops in an instant. We’re initiated into a club whose membership we never asked for. A hole is created in us that can’t be filled. “You have other children,” we’re told. As if he can be replaced. That’s like telling an amputee, “You have another leg. What’s the problem?” We start the process of grief, and we either work through it, or it works on us. Trying to hold it at bay is like trying to stand firm on a beach during a tsunami. When the tsunami warning sounds, we must seek the highest ground, climb to the top of a mountain.
Working through the process of grief is like that climb from the valley floor to the high point of hope through Christ. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . .” Death is only a shadow to the believer, and our life a vapor. Mothers, if your child made a decision to follow Christ, take courage that you will see your beloved child again. God gave His Son so that you could be with your son or daughter for all eternity.
Connect with Jane via her website.
You can still preorder Shadow Dancing and receive the bonus of a free story I wrote. It’s called Heart Shadows, and it’s a prequel to Bekah and Mitch’s story set in 1977 Nashville. Click the link here, and choose whether you want the ebook (for $2.99) or the paperback for 30% off and free shipping. Heart Shadows is included in the paperback version, but if you choose the ebook version, you need to fill out the form so my publisher can send it to you. Scroll down to the bottom of the webpage and follow the links.
