I’m feeling cold.

My hearts on ice.

No love to give-

no emotions inside.

You leaving us

with so many lies

for the drugs

hoping we would survive.

We’d all be lying

if we said it didn’t hurt.

Our definition of love

is getting treated like dirt.

Couldn’t find a home

in your children or yourself,

but still you’re out here

searching for something else.


What’s love if that’s all you got to give?

You’re thousands of miles away so how could I feel it?

You’re my mama and it hurts to say

But I think I’ve gotta move on to better days.


Better Days

Mourning. It was a word that I would have said I understood.

I have mourned loved ones who’ve left this world more suddenly than I was ready for.
I have mourned family who had lived a long life and were ready to meet their King.
I have mourned three of my own babies that I never got the chance to meet.
I have mourned for those that have fought hard for every last day they had on this earth.
And I have mourned with many families of which death took a person that they were not ready to give up.

What I did not ever know…was that I could mourn a person who was very much alive.
A person whom I loved.
A person who I saw day after day.
A person who was no where near death.
I did not know about this type of mourning. And honestly, I wish I still didn’t.

This type of mourning has its own rulebook. It comes with a vast array of helpless, emotional roller coaster type of feelings. It has you replay over and over what you could have done differently to prevent the very action that caused it. It has you second guess every decision you made. It has you wishing you had chosen things…anything…everything…differently.

Mourning your child, who’s hair you brush. Who’s tears you wipe. Who’s laugh you love.
This mourning is silent. It is kept secret, as a protection mechanism. It is misunderstood by anyone who has never
walked down this path. And it is a lonely place to reside.

This type of mourning will cause you to give up everything you loved. People. Places. Passions. Possessions. This type of mourning will leave you starving for genuine love and support, and yet leery of absolutely everyone offering it. Do they truly care…or do they just want to know what has changed you? Trust does not come easily with this type of mourning.

I am mourning innocence that was selfishly stolen.

I am mourning the freedom to trust people that I once respected.

I am mourning saying Yes to my children.

I am mourning the life that I once had.

I know I am not the only one. I can’t be. There is too much going on in this world for me to be the only one.

Moms. Dads.
Where are you that mourn a child who was taken away by empty promises?
A child that chose hollow, toxic relationships over unconditional love.
A child that can’t stay away from the things that you fear will eventually pull them to their grave.
A child who has left and has promised never to return.

Moms. Dads.
Where are you that mourn a child that lives in your home?
A child who trusted because it is what they were taught to do so.
A child who obeyed because it was what was right.
A child who endured trauma because they would not tell an adult No.

We silently mourn our living children because of addiction. Of poor choices. Of broken relationships. Of undeserved traumatic life events. Of all the days that were stolen from us. And though our circumstances are very different…some days…this mourning seems impossible to bear and still function. Some days it comes out in anger. Some days it comes out in paralyzed fear. Some days it comes out in simply withdrawing from life.

Mourning isn’t the same for any two people. My husband and I handle it very differently. Our phases of mourning never coincide. I thank God for that!! When I am weak, God is strong…and some days God shows His strength through the protection of my husband.

Moms. Dads.
I may not know you at all. I may just pass you in the store. But if I see the sorrow in your eyes when you feel like your smile is hiding it well, just know that I am praying for you. I am praying for those who mourn their children; both that have passed away and who are still with us. I am praying because I know that I am nothing without Prayer. I am lost
without Promise. And I am angry without Hope.


Mourning, Mother of child who was sexually abused