Tag: loss

End the Stigma, Faith Journey, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

When the Silence is Deafening

Brandi C

When the Silence is Deafening

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When silence becomes deafening, emotions can shift from moment to moment. Some days, it feels like they change by the minute. Lately, the silence has been so loud that I can’t hear myself think. It’s like when my aunt can’t smell anything because the noise around her is too overwhelming—strange, isn’t it? Even as I write this, I’m reflecting on how I got here.

On Juneteenth, my friend took her last breath here on earth. In July, my sweet granny passed away. Then, one year to the date after my granny’s death, my father-in-law died. My Lady’s birthday falls in July, but her death anniversary is on October 1st. A friend celebrated her birthday on October 6th, but she passed away on October 15th a few years ago. Although these deaths happened years ago, they feel like they just occurred yesterday.

In a crisis, I tend to be focused—quiet, but focused. I do what needs to be done, helping where I can. But it’s during the stillness of the night, when I’m not juggling multiple tasks, that everything shifts. It’s when I allow myself to be still that the grief and pain I’ve buried deep inside begin to surface.

I don’t like the silence.

It’s in that silence when I realize how much hurt and grief I’ve been holding in. My greatest fear is that if I stop, if I let myself feel, I’ll start crying and never stop. It’s difficult for me to reach out and be vulnerable, to cry in front of someone. I fear judgment, explaining myself, or making the pain I’ve held in feel too real once I speak it aloud.

Not long ago, I reached out to a friend. It felt strange. I had been alone that night, crying for hours. Then, I stopped and dialed her number. She’s the one person who rarely answers because she’s a busy mom with her own life, so I assumed she wouldn’t answer.

She answered.

No words came out of my mouth. All I did was cry. She listened and she didn’t ask questions or offer “it’ll be okay” statements. Honestly, she just listened to me cry. Afterward, I managed to say the many things that had been plaguing my heart. I didn’t want her to fix anything; I knew she couldn’t. All I needed was for her to listen and love me, without any judgment or unsolicited advice.

October 1st was another difficult day. I made it to work for about two hours before I couldn’t go any further. I left, called my mom, and pretended everything was fine, but she knew. She always knows. I kept the conversation together and then came home and slept.

Off to the Hills

I spent the rest of the day crying off and on, then called my mom again, asking if I could come over. She was busy but said she’d be home soon and I could come over then. I got in the car, feeling like I couldn’t breathe or hold it together. I told my husband I was leaving, not knowing when or if I’d be back that night.

It was a beautiful evening, so I rolled the windows down and drove. In the past, when we lived in our old house, I would go on drives like this to clear my head. There was no pressure to be a wife or a mom. I’d drive for hours, seeing new places, exploring new roads. Sometimes, a kid would join me, and we’d go on adventures. Once, I ended up in Dukedom, TN.

Visiting Granny

On that particular night, I drove on unfamiliar roads and ended up near Lovelaceville—close to my granny’s house. I took the “old way” and passed by the new houses. The familiar music stirred my emotions, and I cried even harder. Memories flooded back of driving down that road with her. My mind was a mess, and my body couldn’t hold back the tears.

I ended up at the cemetery where my granny, grandfather, uncle, aunt, and cousin are buried. I hadn’t been there in a long time. My heart longed for her presence—the wisdom she offered, the laughter she shared, the way she could solve my problems with a game of Scrabble, some juicy fruit gum, and a surprise bowl of ice cream.

Cortisol Break

I’m in the middle of a “cortisol break” as I sit here, tears dripping down my face. It’s a moment where the weight of everything comes rushing in, and I need time to collect myself.

I’ve been working through this for days, writing down my feelings. Right now, I’m listening to Made for More while holding onto the baby blanket my granny made for me. It’s my comfort—a kind of emotional support quilt. It’s full of holes, tears, and stains, but it’s mine. It makes me feel loved. It’s incredible how an object can do that.

Deafening Silence

The silence is the hardest part for me. It’s when the noise fades that the unresolved grief starts to surface. When my granny passed, I had just gained custody of two kids, only to lose her and them shortly after. When my father-in-law died, we hadn’t spoken for six months due to a misunderstanding. After LA passed, I couldn’t go to her funeral because my son needed chemotherapy. When my Lady died, my son was struggling with OMS, and my dad had a stroke, so I couldn’t process her death. And when Donna passed, that night was filled with pain in more ways than one.

There’s so much I’ve never processed, and the recent losses only add to it. If I could just trust in God’s faithfulness, maybe this pain wouldn’t feel so overwhelming. I know His word is true, and I do believe in it. But in my life, I struggle to see hope. I feel trapped, like I’m walking through mud. It’s hard to see a way out. If I don’t allow myself to feel, to sit in the silence and process, I don’t know what will happen. Maybe I’ll implode.

“Made For More”
(feat. Jenn Johnson)

I know who I am ’cause I know who You are.
The cross of salvation was only the start.
Now I am chosen, free and forgiven.
I have a future and it’s worth the living’.
Cause I wasn’t made to be tending a grave.
I was called by name.
Born and raised back to life again.
I was made for more.
So why would I make a bed in my shame.
When a fountain of grace is running my way.
I know I am Yours
And I was made for more.

Oh hallelujah.
You called out my name.
So I’ll sing out Your praise.
Hallelujah.
You buried my past
And I’m not going back.

 

💛 If you’re navigating life’s hard places and need a safe space to heal, grow, or just breathe—Circle of Hope Counseling Services is here for you.

We offer trauma-informed, faith-filled therapy for individuals, couples, and families.

📞 Reach out today to schedule your first session (KY residents only) or learn more: Circle of Hope Counseling Services.

You don’t have to walk this journey alone. Hope starts here.

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Circle of Hope Counseling Services, End the Stigma, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

In the Still of the Night The Monster Comes to Play

Brandi C

In the Still of the Night The Monster Comes to Play

In the Still of the Night, The Monster Comes to Play

The Monster in the Silence

I love the time of day when I can go upstairs and just be. For the day, I am done. I am done with work, cooking, cleaning, putting out fires, phone calls, texts, and all the other things that demand my attention. My stuff, a bottle of water, and my Coke come upstairs with me. I turn on all the fans, dim the lights, wash my face, and pile up in bed. Yet, in the still of the night, the monster comes to play. For a while, I am okay, but then my mind begins to wander. A wandering mind is never a good thing for me.

The Silence

My life is SO loud. My son is a chatterbox, people at work, the lights, traffic—just all the things. I stopped listening to music in the house (or car); the television is rarely on. Even chewing can grind my gears. Everything is loud. At night, though, aside from the fans, it’s silent, except for the thoughts in my head.

These thoughts aren’t good. In the past, I would watch the Detail Geek (the car detailing guy from Canada) and talk to a sweet friend. We’d chat through his details, laugh, and catch up on life. We’d talk about our issues, the issues with our children, and all the things. It was good to have that voice in my ear, even when we sat in silence. This became a nightly ritual that I came to enjoy.

Since she passed away, I stopped watching him. I get so emotional when I do. Then, I go to pick up the phone and realize she isn’t there. There’s that realization that most of the people I held dear to my heart have passed. I still have people I can call, but we are all in the thick of life. Without that calm, consistent voice, the unresolved trauma of life and loss floods me with grief because now I’m left with just myself and my thoughts.

Reality

When my friend’s daughter died (we were good friends before her mom and I became friends), I didn’t process her death for a year. Her death was so hard on me. I loved LA from the moment I met her until the moment we buried her. Donna and I were always close, but after LA’s passing, our bond became unbreakable.

There’s one night that stands out, and I still remember it vividly. I called Donna because my thoughts were so loud, and I was finally processing LA’s death. Here I am, crying so hard that I couldn’t breathe, and Donna, who had lost her daughter, comforted me. She couldn’t understand me through my sobs, but finally, she told me to stop crying and tell her two things that made me laugh when I thought of LA.

Bats. Hair dye.
Instantly, I stopped crying. I replayed that story over and over in my head. The darkness began to have a bit of light, and the monster retreated for a moment. But now, Donna is gone, and so is LA. I don’t have anyone to tell that story to. So, once again, the monster comes out to play in the stillness of the night. When I am alone with my own thoughts, the depression begins to overwhelm me.

Bats. Hair dye.
Bats. Hair dye.
Monsters go away because I do not want to play. LA’s birthday is coming up soon, and I often think of her children. I’m still in communication with them, but if it’s this hard for me, I can’t imagine what it’s like for them. Their pain is so deep, with so much loss at such a young age.

Cancer, Suicide, and Depression

Cancer is cruel, and it took Donna way too quickly. From diagnosis to her death was only nine days. You know what’s worse? Suicide. Please know that you are enough, you are worthy, you are loved, and life is better with you in it! Please reach out to a friend, pastor, counselor, therapist, or call 911 or 988, the National Suicide Hotline number.

Whereas Donna passed quickly from cancer, LA struggled with mental illness and made a choice that forever impacted all those who loved her. She has been on my mind a lot lately, especially with her birthday on the 14th and her death day on June 17th.

There are things that can help—counseling, fresh air, prayer, talking to someone, eating protein, drinking water, practicing self-care, reading, and many more. These things can help take your mind off of your current circumstances and focus on more positive things.

Please, reach out! You are loved.

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Circle of Hope Counseling Services, End the Stigma, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

The Ghost from Juneteenth Past

Brandi C

The Ghost from Juneteenth Past

The Ghost from Juneteenth Past
Photo by Vie Studio on Pexels.com

Trigger warning If you or someone you know has struggled with suicidal ideations or attempts, please refrain from reading this content. Seek help! “Today, “988” is the three-digit, nationwide phone number to connect directly to the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. By calling or texting 988, you’ll connect with mental health professionals from the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline, formerly known as the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Veterans can press “1” after dialing 988 to connect directly to the Veterans Crisis Lifeline, serving our nation’s Veterans, service members, National Guard, and Reserve members, and those who support them. For texts, Veterans should continue to text the Veterans Crisis Lifeline short code: 838255.”

Juneteenth

When you hear the phrase “Juneteenth,” what comes to mind? For some, it might be a day of little significance. For others, it is a deeply revered and celebrated day. According to Wikipedia, “Juneteenth, also known as Freedom Day, Jubilee Day, and Cel-Liberation Day, is an American holiday celebrated on June 19. On June 19, 1865, the Emancipation Proclamation, which had been issued on January 1, 1863, was read to enslaved African Americans in Texas by Gordon Granger.” That is a monumental moment in history! For me, I celebrate it, knowing what it means to my son, my nephews, and those I love. However, Juneteenth is also a dark day for me personally.

Loss and Grief

On June 19th, my friend passed away. LA was a firecracker. She was loud, her laugh could fill a room, and she loved her kids fiercely. LA was a fighter, loved by many, yet at times, she didn’t feel that love. She struggled with guilt and addiction. LA loved Jesus, her dad’s mini pecan pies, her children, her dogs, rabbits, and that smelly turtle in a tank. I loved her so very much.

Grief ebbs and flows. There are times when grief is so thick you can hardly breathe, and other times, you learn to live life again—until the nightmares come, rocking you to your core. Lately, I’ve had fleeting memories that make me smile, and the nightmares have mostly subsided.

The Ghost of Juneteenth

Today, as I walked into the clinic, I was greeted by the beautiful, smiling faces of people I’ve come to love. These faces are full of joy, hope, some sadness, and a lot of grit and determination. As I scanned the room, my eyes landed on a new face.

I caught myself inhaling sharply. The woman in front of me was dressed head-to-toe in hot pink—her hair, her eyes, her clothes, her voice—it was all LA. I swallowed hard and took a seat next to a familiar face while I gathered myself. I decided to take charge of the situation and avoided making eye contact for the rest of the day.

After finishing my rounds, I pulled the new person aside. We walked outside to get some fresh air. I sat mostly in silence as we spent time together, but toward the end, I felt myself choking up, overwhelmed with a sense of love and protection for her. In that moment, she hugged me so tightly, and we both began to sob. She couldn’t control her sobs, and I let mine flow too.

In That Moment

That moment brought me back to the slab where my friend lay, and I found myself wiping the dirt off her body. I was brushing and braiding her hair, speaking to her softly, telling her how worthy and loved she was. On June 19th, 2018, I was preparing her for her mother, brother, and children to see her one last time.

Today, in that room, I felt like I was hugging her again, weeping for her and with her, telling her she was worthy and loved. I longed to hold her longer, to tell her more about her children and grandchildren, but I remembered this wasn’t my LA.

The Lord has stirred up my grief, and I know I’ll need to confront this over the next month. During this time, I pray for healing—for my mind and my heart. I also pray for comfort for her children, brother, and grandchildren. I pray that I can make a difference in someone else’s life through this process.

Remembering

LA, I loved you fiercely in life, and I love you still. I’m so sorry that you felt alone and unloved in those final moments. I close my eyes, and I can still see your smile. Honestly, I can smell your hair, your fresh tattoo, and the detergent on your clothes. I can still hear the voices of your children, mom, and brother on that day. They loved you so much, and they still do. You are worthy, you are loved, and the world was better because you were in it.

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Circle of Hope Counseling Services, End the Stigma, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

LA Came in Like a Tornado

Brandi C

LA Came in Like a Tornado

Leigh Ann Came in Like a Tornado

Ten years ago, I met a brassy blond girl at a ballpark. She had a crass mouth and a nasty smoking habit. She was loud and obnoxious. A person people moved away from when they saw her. She did not dress the part, talk the part, and certainly did not behave the part of what society deems “normal.” 

Yet, I was drawn to her. I saw myself in her—the girl that no one wanted to be friends with, the outcast. I have a deep love for those who seem unlovable. I see through the facade of what someone presents. I see their heart—that deep desire to fit in, yet the complete inability to do so.

Seeing a Bit of Jesus in Her

In my mind, I can close my eyes and see all the bright dots of Jesus throughout her. I just knew when those dots connected; she would be an unstoppable force of nature for the Kingdom.

I fell in love with this girl, her children, her brother, and her parents. We were a tight-knit group of misfits. I was blessed to be able to lead her to Christ one spring day. After she accepted Christ, I gave her a hot pink Bible. It was her favorite color. She loved Jesus with all her heart.

Mental Illness

She also struggled with mental illness. Despite her love for Jesus, she had good days and bad days. What bonded us was that I, too, suffer from mental illness. I have clinical depression. She had onset bipolar disorder. 

One thing I want you all to hear is that you can still love Jesus without abandon and still struggle with different types of mental illness. That does not mean you love Him less than someone who does not struggle.

How Did She Change My World?

She taught me how to accept those who were not “normal.” Also, she taught me to walk towards the waves instead of away from them. Live life without fear of abandonment and to hell what people thought of you.

Did I change her world? I hope I did. She made me a better person, and I hope I had some effect on her. Her mom always said that I did. I sure do love her children and now grandchildren. We were good for each other, for the most part.

Does it Change the World to Stand in the Gap?

Yes, it does the world when you brush and braid a friend’s hair for the last time? Also, when you begin painting her nails and toenails her favorite color? Does it change the world to wipe the ants off of her body while you are bathing her? What about closing her eyes for the last time?

Yes, it does change the world. It changed for LA’s children, her mother, and her brother. It also changed me and it showed me what the phrase “be Jesus with skin on” really means. Sacrificial love and service for her and her family.

LA, you are loved, thought of, and missed daily.

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Circle of Hope Counseling Services, End the Stigma, Guest Blogger, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

Open Letter to A Brother Who Left This World Too Soon

Brandi C

Open Letter to A Brother Who Left This World Too Soon

In this Open Letter to A Brother Who Left This World Too Soon, my guest blogger remembers her brother, who died of cancer six years ago. What a thing for a family to go through. The loss of a child, grandchild, brother, and friend. He was a few days shy of turning 19 when he met Jesus.

Lord, bless this family. Bless them with peace and sweet memories as they navigate this difficult week as they remember this sweet boy. Please give them the knowledge that he is healthy and happy and hanging out with your Son, Jesus. He is waiting for them to all be reunited one day.

Open Letter to A Brother Who Left This World Too Soon

 

Dear Z,

It has almost been six years without you, and I don’t feel it has gotten any easier. This wound is taking forever to heal. I miss you so much, and naturally, I wish you were here with me. This is my least favorite time of year. I know you are watching over me and taking care of me. 

I Wish You Could Answer Me

I’d give anything to have one final conversation with you or give you one last hug. If I could go back and change things, I would. I would have stayed by your side through it all. I think about that all the time. Does it make me a bad sister for leaving you there? I could have taken whatever our stepfather threw at me to stay with you.

Missing All The Things

My mom told me a few years ago that you asked for me every day. You asked when I was coming back from dad’s. You know I like to take care of people. I took care of you for the longest time. Honestly, I miss waking up at 3 in the morning to refill your feeding pump. I miss helping you walk around, even though you protested the entire time. For six years, I have been waiting for you to appear in front of me. To give me a chance to tell you my final goodbye. To tell you I loved you just one more time. 

It Hasn’t Happened, so I’ll Keep Waiting.

I think I can finally start to let go of the regret I’ve had for the past six years. It’s time. You know I love you more than words could ever describe. I know your biggest fear of death was being forgotten, but you are unforgettable. You made an impact on everyone’s life. I will never forget you or the things you did for me. 

You were one of my best friends. I promise you my kids will know what a fantastic man you were. They will know how strong you were and how hard you fought. They will know that you are my hero, and I aspire to be as strong and brave as you were. 

After Six Years, I Can Let You Go and Let You Rest in Peace

That doesn’t mean I will forget about you. It means I don’t have to worry about you hating me for leaving. I know you loved me as much as I loved you. I know you weren’t upset about us leaving Mom. I’m just upset she wouldn’t let you stay with us. 

I am letting go of my regret because it wasn’t my fault you got sick. Honestly, I was a child, and I know it wasn’t my responsibility to take care of you. I am moving on and trying to start the new year off right. Thankfully, I know you will be with me and watching over me every step.

Love,

S

 

Circle of Hope Counseling Services, End the Stigma, Guest Blogger, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

The Real Truth About Death and Grief

Brandi C

The Real Truth About Death and Grief

In The Real Truth About Death and Grief, my guest blogger goes through her emotions of losing her brother at a very young age.  The loss of a sibling is devastating to the other children, as well as, the parents.  It is unimaginable pain that lingers for so very long.

The Real Truth About Death and Grief

Dearest Z,

A kid my age I knew from school came in, and he reminds me so much of you. He has something wrong with him medically, and he walks just like you did when you got sick. I saw him, and that made a bad day worse. Seriously, I wanted to give him a big hug. Then, I tried to crawl under the register and cry. I miss you so much. It has been five years. I can’t believe it. You deserve to be here, bub. I think that you would be married with a family now. You would be a good dad.

Honest Prayer

I prayed to God every night for years that it was me instead of you. Honestly, I prayed that I could take all your pain away. I wanted to make you better, and I couldn’t. That seems to be a recurring theme in my life. I joke about you being dead, but that’s how I cope with you being gone. 

I’m sorry we left you with mom. I’m sorry I didn’t stay with you that last year. I would have gone through whatever T threw at me to be with you last year. Mom told me about how you asked for me every day after your seizure, and that story hurts my heart. She told me about how you thought you saw me running around the foot of your bed every night before you went to bed. I am sorry I wasn’t there for that. I wish I were there to be running around your bed. 

Life isn’t the same without you. I missed your voice, hugs, and yelling at me when I tried to help you walk. Honestly, I miss you, dude. You were a light to anyone who knew you, and I miss your presence.

Thankful

Today, I am thankful for the beginning of healing. I have an awareness of where healing needs to happen. Also, I know the route that must be taken to walk through the pain that leads to healing.

 

 

Circle of Hope Counseling Services, End the Stigma, Guest Blogger, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

Hurt People Hurt People

Brandi C

Hurt People Hurt People

Hurt People Hurt People

A phrase my mom has always said is Hurt People Hurt People. That is an accurate phrase. I always thought that I was your favorite person. You would make time to come down and see me. You brought me books and movies. We would go to the movies and have the best time ever. It meant everything to me that we had a good relationship. But all that changed, now you can barely say two words to me. Now you won’t even make eye contact with me most of the time. And to be honest, it is hard for me to talk to you because I don’t know what to say. 

 

Life After Death

 

After my cousin died, I was hurt so much after realizing that he may not be in heaven where I desperately wanted him to be. After him leaving so suddenly and I never got the chance to say goodbye, it was hard on me. Because I loved him and wanted to know I would see him again. And I loved you so much that I wanted to know that if you left suddenly, I would see you again. 

 

Blaming Myself

 

Do you know my mom would not even let me read the letter you sent back to me? Because she knew it would hurt me if I read it. It was easier for me not to have to read it. I blamed myself for ruining our relationship. But now, I think it was more on you than on me. I was coming from a place of love but sadness and hurt. I didn’t understand why you didn’t believe the way that I did. I had no idea you would react the way you did. 

 

You Stopped 

 

You stopped writing to me. Also, you stopped all communication. You just stopped. That was hurtful to me. I looked up to you. I wanted to come to stay with you and wanted to be like you. I admired you for being as successful as you were. I understand now that what I said may have offended you, but I was a child and didn’t understand how it would offend you at the time. 

 

Ensured Salvation

 

In my mind, I wanted to ensure that I would see you again. I wouldn’t have to know that you would be in the next life and not in a bad place. I was hurting so much, and I was only a child. How was I supposed to know that one email would change our relationship forever? 

 

I think our Aunt blames me for our relationship not being where it used to be. I can see it on her face. I can feel it in her energy. But I know this was not my fault. My intentions were not of malice. You sent very hurtful letters back to me. It was not my intent to hurt you. Ever. 

 

Now, I Understand

 

I have gone through a tough time since then. I have suffered much, and you have no idea. And I so desperately wanted you to love and accept me like I love and accept you now. I feel guilty because I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never intentionally hurt you in any way. I would hope you felt the same way about me. I do not judge your lifestyle. I am not a child anymore. I now understand how offensive some statements can be, and I choose not to make those statements. 

 

I love you. I want you to love me too. 

 

 

Circle of Hope Counseling Services, End the Stigma, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

Suicide Sprinkled Throughout My Life

Brandi C

Suicide Sprinkled Throughout My Life

Suicide Sprinkled Throughout My Life

Suicide has been a thread woven through my life, though I didn’t fully understand it until I was older. As a child, I saw sadness and knew that people had passed away, but the gravity of it escaped me. The word itself was foreign to me until I was about ten years old. Even then, it wasn’t until I was fourteen and experienced my grandfather’s passing that I began to comprehend the depth of loss and what death truly meant.

Sharing Stories, Spreading Awareness

Throughout this month, in honor of Suicide Prevention Awareness, I have shared stories from people I know and love—people who have allowed me to be part of the chapter God is writing in their lives. Writing and sharing these stories has not been easy, but I know that their pain has purpose. Their words may be the light that someone else needs to seek help. Healing is found on the other side of brokenness, and their courage in sharing their journey could be the very thing that saves another person.

The Weight of Heartache

Hearing these stories and knowing what these people have endured breaks my heart. I long for Jesus to return and erase the pain, the hurt, the abuse. He will come, like a thief in the night, not when I wish but in His perfect timing. I rest in the promise that He can bring good from even the most tragic circumstances. Though He does not ordain suffering, He allows it, and He will use it for His glory.

My First Encounter with Suicide

I was about ten years old when I first brushed up against the concept of suicide. A young man, a friend of our family, loved riding horses. One day, I had been thrown off our pony—a creature no bigger than a large dog—and lay on the ground, terrified and breathless. He watched from the sidelines, his leg encased in a cast up to his thigh.

Rather than standing idly by, he tossed aside his crutches, mounted the horse with ease, and calmed her down. Then, he turned to me with a look of determination and told me to get back on. I was hesitant, but he wouldn’t let me walk away in fear. With his encouragement, I got back on that horse, and from that moment, I was no longer afraid.

Then, one day, he was gone. Whispers filled the air. Quiet conversations. Crying. I didn’t understand what had happened. No one spoke openly about it, but the silence was deafening. Now, looking back, I know the truth. He had taken his own life.

Another Loss, Another Whisper

Not long after, another family friend was suddenly absent. Again, hushed whispers, tears, and a heavy sadness hung over those I loved. The word ‘suicide’ was still never spoken, but now, as an adult, I recognize what it was.

A Decade Later, A Shattering Loss

Years later, I lost another dear friend. This time, I was old enough to understand. He was loved by so many, incredibly talented, and his passing shook me to my core. The pain of suicide is unnatural and unbearable. Parents should never have to bury their child, no matter their age, and yet, so many do. The grief and unanswered questions linger forever.

When It Hits Close to Home

One of my closest friends, whom I met through a Christian group, has fought battles that few could understand. She has struggled with feelings of worthlessness and despair, but through God’s grace, she is still here. I thank the Lord every day that her attempts were not successful—He knew she was needed, loved, and still had a purpose.

Sadly, she was not the only one in her family to face this darkness. I remember the day she messaged me, telling me her sister had died by suicide. The pain in her words still echoes in my heart. She continues to light candles in her sister’s memory and speaks out about suicide awareness, hoping to spare another family from enduring the same devastation.

Breaking the Cycle

The hole left by suicide never fully heals. It is a generational curse that can be broken, but it takes action. If you are struggling, please seek help. Talk to someone. Start therapy. Consider medication. Reach out to a friend. You are not alone. You are loved.

Your life matters, and there is hope.

Please, if you or someone you love is struggling, don’t wait. There is help available. Reach out today. You are worth it.

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Reflecting on Nesting Bird Wisdom

Brandi C

Reflecting on Nesting Bird Wisdom

Reflecting on Nesting Bird Wisdom

I was reflecting on Nesting Bird Wisdom from my sister a year ago. After a tough weekend, emotionally, I had my early Monday morning chat with my sister. We chit-chatted about nothing and everything. Then we moved into what my triggers were from the past weekend.

A statement swirls around in my head from another friend I told Tera. My friend said, “Brandi, you have to have a release. You have to find someone you can trust. Get this stuff off your chest. Cry if you need to cry.” My statement back to her was, “I had that person. She died. Now I don’t share or talk. I stuff it all down.”

Tera agreed with my friend. We talked about the stages of grief. Also, I have had no time to grieve anything over the past several years. I’ve gone from one hit to another. There has been little time to breathe. Sadly, no time to grieve. Sadly, there was no time to release the pain and emotion from everything that had happened.

Then, she took it one step further.

She said: “Brandi, it’s okay to have birds fly around your head (referring, of course, to grief, depression, anxiety, etc), but you can’t let them make a nest in your hair.”

I agreed. Then, I wiped my tears and got off the phone. Next, I went to the bathroom.

What I saw was a thing of fear and horror. My hair was straight up (circa 80-the 90s) in that great curly, let it be free, windblown hair.

I texted my sister and asked her to define “Nest in Hair.”

So, my birds have nested, and now it is time for them to fly south.

Bye, Bye Birdie. The bird has flown away!

 

Circle of Hope Counseling Services, End the Stigma, Suicide Awareness and Prevention

Save Me I am Drowning

Brandi C

 

Save Me I am Drowning

When We Met

Please save me. I am drowning. LA’s death has been a HARD thing for me to blog about….but I keep thinking if I get out my thoughts, through my fingertips….maybe I can get the images out of my mind.

LA…..we met when our boys were playing baseball when they were about 8. She had two kiddos. Our boys are the same age, and then she has a daughter the same age as my 5th son. I remember walking into the baseball park, finding N’s team, and then seeing this woman sitting on the top of the bleachers.

She had a little bob haircut, and her hair was bleached blonde. Honestly, she looked like a baby. She was way too young to have an 8- and 3 yr old at the time. She had on a white t-shirt and ripped jeans. Sitting beneath her was this skinny man with this awesome mustache and his brown-haired wife. They were all smoking, loud, fussing at each other, laughing, cheering, and eating. My 5th child took a liking to the brown-haired lady, and every time I turned around, she gave him food. I would give D a stern look, and she would pipe up, “don’t you fuss at that baby. He didn’t ask. He just looked hungry.”

LA and Her Curiosity

The bleach-blonde girl would cackle, and I’d roll my eyes thinking, she is my spirit animal. Rough around the edges, spirited, funny, family-oriented, and LOUD. We hit it off and began an intense friendship of discovery.

LA, through the lens she saw my life, was curious. She was asked a lot of questions about my life, my marriage, my parenting, and my faith. Her kids and my kids hit it off. We all hit it off with her parents and her brother. It was fun. It was crass at times cause that is how they roll, in a vat of sarcasm and love.

We were friends for about 10 yrs; through incredible ups of leading her to Christ in the park and her dyeing my hair to the deepest of lows with alcohol, drug addiction, and mental illness. I have loved her through every moment we knew each other. There was a point where those moments consumed me like a fire. There were times when I would stay up late. I talked with her and tried my best to pull her into the light of healing. I was doing the job that Christ needed to do.

When She Fell and Letting Go

What I see now, on the back end of things, is that she didn’t eat the bottom of the barrel when she fell. She hit my face. I loved her and her children and family, so I placed myself at the bottom of that barrel, so she never had the opportunity to see Jesus directly. She saw Him because she loved Him and was His child, but she did see Him in that face of darkness and despair. I wanted control because I thought I could fix it all and make her better.

My husband had encouraged me to back away. Not to disappear, not to stop loving, not to stop praying, but I had to allow her to meet her Jesus and find her healing and wholeness in Him and not me. That was hard. I met some very dark days, as well. Sometimes she would need me, and I would rearrange everything to go to her and love her and leave my kids and their issues behind.

It is sad to say that reprioritizing my life, submitting to my husband, and what I know to be Scripturally correct was letting LA deal with things alone….without me swooping in to rescue her. My heart was good because I love her so much, and I love those babies so very much, but our friendship was in the way of her relationship with Jesus. I was a stumbling block.

Swirl of Love

As the years waned in and out, we would have good laughs at memories and catch up with the kids, and she started becoming healthier in her mind and other areas. What proved to me that listening to Jesus was right was when she called me up out of the blue and said: “I need you.” Mind you; this was probably 8 or 9 years into our friendship. She wanted to come to the house. She needed me, and I could hear in her voice the clarity. I did not hear that foggy voice of addiction. I told her to come, and we would talk.

She walked up to my porch, and the swirl of love and respect for each other encompassed us. It was like not a minute had passed since we had seen each other. She was clear-eyed, had a clear voice, and was very strong. There was such a strength in her. She sat down and explained what was going on to Bart and me, and we all just sat there and stared at each other, thinking, “oh crap….what is going to happen, and how can we help.” She needed to talk about an issue. There had been an issue with her precious son. In a moment of fogginess, the love she had for that baby, regardless of the situation, was written all over her face.

Forgiveness

She had forgiven, instantly, the things that had happened and was prepared to do whatever she could to help her son get the help he needed, and she did. She fought an excellent fight, and she and her mom won. He received what he needed, and though the situation was terrible, in a stranger’s view, it was just a moment to her. A mistake happened. We all make them; he is no different, and she loves and believes in him and his sister. I was so proud of her and her resolve. I think the only other thing I was prouder of was when she received Christ, but this one was a close second!

Save Me I am Drowning

Now, to see my friend, so desperate, again, and I was unaware this time. The phone call from her mom stopped my world from spinning. Honestly didn’t believe her until I heard her substantial voice crack. I could hear her crying over the phone. Just typing and thinking about that sends this electric emotion through me. I can’t stop thinking of all the “what ifs.” My last image of my friend was looking at her beautiful face. She was so calm and sincere. I brushed her freshly washed hair and braided it. All while she lay on that table after she took her life.

I Will Never Forget

I will never get those images out of my head. Ever. I will never forget hugging her mom, son, daughter, and brother. I will never forget it. Never. I washed her face, brushed her hair, and painted her fingernails the perfect color of pink. I will never forget it.

One Moment

One moment of despair.

A moment of feeling alone.

Finally, a moment of being alone, physically.

Ten seconds away from her mom and children.

Her life was over.

She met Jesus face to face.

Please please please remember

You are NEVER alone.

God is ALWAYS with you.

You are LOVED beyond measure.

Help is a PHONE CALL 24 HOURS A DAY away.

There is always a joy to be found somewhere; even if it is so minimal, there is still joy.

Please seek help from a counselor, the hotline, a pastor, a friend, or a family member.

Please do not choose a path that leaves the family with many unanswered questions and pain.

You ARE WORTHY.

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Adoption, Circle of Hope Counseling Services, End the Stigma, Guest Blogger

God is in the Details

Brandi C

~~Guest Blogger: God is in the details is something I posted, a few months ago.  This post is about the love, adoption, and loss of this sweet family’s sweet daughter Freh.  Amy and Sten’s story continues and the light of the Lord shines through dark times.  She has graciously let me repost her original blog (you can find her blog here).  Amy and Sten’s story is powerful and their faith is an inspiration~~

God is in the Details

Sometimes Writing is Painful

Putting words into print somehow solidifies the reality. But everyone knows that writing is therapeutic and sharing one’s story is really more for the writer than the reader, right?

I have had an aversion to sharing in the past several months, because how do I say it? How do I justly tell a story that has so many details and changing parts that won’t leave me feeling torn apart and raw or worse yet…vulnerable. After all, isn’t dealing with child loss and grief enough? I mean why tell a story that will make me look like a glutton for punishment? I don’t know. But what I do know is that an amazing story is unfolding in my life, and I haven’t shared it because of vulnerability. I have avoided the messy, ugly, scorching parts to preserve what little dignity I have left. Questions, opinions, judgment, they all raise the hairs on my neck.

I Have Turned to Close Confidants

Also, my prayer posse to stand there, in this foggy ditch, and intercede on my behalf until I can muster the words……God is still working. He has not set my tapestry down and forgotten. He is very much working out the finest of details. This ‘new us’ is now on a constant quest for joy. Consistently, almost methodically searching and seeking not the temporary thrills and distractions from our pain, but eternal, long-lasting, blanketing joy. We did a lot of talking and praying about this joy. I asked God to tell me where to go to find this gift He had for us and very clearly he pointed us to children, the beautifully packaged joy that He has time and again chosen for us since we were just 18 years old.

May 2014

Mother’s Day weekend. We got an email that informed us that a young, homeless girl in Florida is pregnant and has chosen us to be the forever family for her baby, due in October. We were ecstatic! Oh, how we had longed for a baby to hold and love since that day just a year before when our lives were shattered, and our Freh was taken from us. I finally felt like there was some joy to be had. A baby, a young mother in need, a little package of hope.

Flying to Florida

We flew to Florida and met “D” and her boyfriend. We went to an ultrasound and saw the little life inside her. It was a boy. He was healthy. We enjoyed the time we spent with this young girl, talking about her life and her plans for herself. Seeing that the relationship she was in with her boyfriend was not healthy,  Sten and I spoke with her about that and ways she could get help.

We bonded with this young mother. I felt an immediate love for her. She showed us the hotel she was now staying in, and we taught her how to cook some food for herself.  On the flight home, Sten and I admitted that we felt conflicted. We really wished she could somehow find a way, as we had over 19 years ago, to keep her baby and yet, we still really longed for a baby. I committed to praying quietly that God would move in D’s life and that He would guide her to the right decision.

She and I Texted Throughout the Summer

I was able to have a few significant conversations with her. We talked about purpose and God and joy. She knew that we had lost our daughter a year before and she asked me how I handle that, a question that brought such a lump to my throat because I knew what possibly laid ahead in her future. I simply answered that I just let God handle the hard parts and I never stop seeking Him. She responded that her grandmother used to tell her the same thing.

35 weeks, ultrasound day….we received a call that D had not shown up for her ultrasound and that she called to tell our consultant that she has decided to leave her boyfriend and keep her baby. She had reunited with her mom, and they were going to raise the baby together. Now, you might think that we were angry with her for this…after all, how could she string us along with all summer and take thousands from us in support? We had our house ready for a baby.

We Were Supposed to be His Parents, Right?

Nope.

God had protected our hearts so perfectly that when we got the news, and the initial (5minute) sting wore off, we were so HAPPY for D. She found a way. She gets to be a momma to her baby!! How could that make anyone angry? God had worked it out to the smallest details. My concern was that she knew we were so happy for her and that we loved her, no matter what. It was ok. I felt that peace that only God can wash over me.  This is where it gets ugly and messy and, for the sake of sanity and humility and all things sensible, I will just share the watered-down version.

Have you ever had an experience that is so confusing and awful that all you can do is chalk it up to the darkness in this world? Well, that’s kind of how this next part played out……Two days later we were matched with another baby due “any day now.” He was 100% certainly ours, or so we were told. We let our guards down, went to Target, and bought everything we would need for this soon to be born child. Then, I asked if a prenatal record was available for us to look over, so we knew what to expect with this baby and just like that he was stripped from us and given to a family who would “love him unconditionally” (aka pay more money and not ask questions) To my friends in the adoption community, you may take a short break to wash the vomit from your mouths.

I know.

Brutal

Two weeks of refusal to answer our emails and phone calls. We had nothing. We were devastated, angry, hurt, seething mad. Talk about God putting up a huge wall. In the midst of hurt and loss upon loss like this, we barely could see straight. I pushed hard into God and the very close, personal friends he has gifted me with. They spoke the truth to me.  I cried, paced, spit…all of those ugly things you do when you get seething mad. But, God was loud and clear to me, once again, to wait to be quiet. TRUST HIM.

I Decided I was not Going to Share Publicly What Had Happened

I was going to let things pass and hopefully ease into the next chapter, without any scars or should I say judgment. People would notice when November comes, and we don’t have a baby. I just didn’t have the words. I kept hearing God nudging me to ‘write it out’….share what He is doing in the midst of pain, but golly! That is just such a vulnerable place to put yourself. And in the center of all that confusion and hurt, I certainly couldn’t see the thread of God’s needle. I could feel more of the flame of his blowtorch… How could I possibly find some wonderfully divine inspiration for writing? But God kept revisiting the issue. Write.

Behind the Adoption Drama Unfolding Another Ache

Our oldest son. He has had a difficult stretch these last few years, and we have had to let him learn some incredibly hard life lessons. Ones that you think to yourself, “son, this is going to wreck you possibly, but you must walk across these burning embers to heal and learn.” I can see now that God knew. God saw the way in advance that if we had been given D’s baby, we certainly would not have been available to help our first-born child through quite possibly, the most challenging time in his life. I love my God for protecting my children that way. For answering my very own prayers for my children so perfectly. Weaving our hearts together in the most intricate way possible.  I am thankful.

My Husband is a Patient and Introspective Man

He encourages me to do things that really stretch me, like be patient, wait it out, be quiet (HA!), listen. He is such a ROCK for me. After all the dust settled from that terrible “you have a baby, wait, no you don’t” week…Sten said to me that we should wait a month, get our bearings and start looking around us at what we should do next. We indeed agreed that we weren’t going to give up on adoption. God put that call on our hearts, and we haven’t felt as if he is taking it away.

On November 6 we signed with an adoption consulting firm called Christian Adoption Consultants. Turns out, Freh’s friend in Heaven, Mattie Sam, well, his mom is one of the lead consultants there, and they orchestrated the whole “hey, our moms should totally meet” thing. Tracie and I firmly believe that they are up to some serious Heavenly Shenanigans! Isn’t that cool? Isn’t it amazing how if you just take a half step back, you can see that GLORY IS RIGHT THERE?

God, just waiting to do His thing! Now, we are working with Tracie’s team at CAC to meet a need and be matched with a baby who needs us, and we cannot wait to see what God will do with this. It finally feels like we are right where He wants us to be. Adoption is very hard. Adoption is very risky. But, with God and Godly people by your side, He will use the ugliest of situations and bring beauty from them!

All This Time

I have heard God speaking to me to write. “I will bless the Lord at all times: his praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul shall make her boast in the Lord: the humble shall hear thereof, and be glad. O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together. I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.” Psalm 34:1-4  This verse has come to my plate many times over the course of the past 8 years. Be a lamp. Still, I struggled inside my own head with sharing.

People Will Just Understand, I Told Myself

God will understand why I don’t want to write about it, it’s painful. But then, without even mentioning this spiritual struggle to anyone, God used one of his people to deliver a message. A Facebook friend wrote me and said she had been feeling like the Lord was leading her to pray for me. We chatted about that, and I let her in on the very surface details of our adoption trials. Then just Sunday morning, she messaged me again, “Have you blogged about any of this? I’m wondering if sharing your thoughts, your story might bring your baby home? I believe God is not asking you to share your sorrow rather share His love and openly SEEK your baby. I’m positive God is asking me to tell you to listen to that voice you hear calling.”

WAIT.  WHAT?

Yes. My God. Our God. He does these things. He uses his people as 2x4s to smack us upside the head. He’s done it before. Why am I surprised?  So, I just spent the better part of a Monday writing to you about the wonderful, faithful, amazing love that is God. He is in the very details of our lives, even when we feel so far from him. He is right there. Listening. Beckoning. Leading.

I am not giving up. Refinement is painful at times. I can see joy and sorrow, contentment and longing all rolled up into a holy ball of fire and ice, beauty like nothing ever witnessed before.

If You Have Endured This Post to the Very End, Would You Do One More Thing?

Would you please pray for us? Pray that whatever baby God is intending for our family will make it to our family soon. Praise God with us for the mighty work He is doing in our oldest son. Ask God to give our weary hearts strength in this wait. Pray for protection and peace over our children. Ask God for grand logistic graces for all of the ifs and whens of this adoption and the impending adoption of Mihret’s brother from Ethiopia. Please pray that I will continue to seek and see Him in all of the details.

Love you all.
Amy