By Debb Hackett @debb_hackett
I’m not sure I can recall a time I’ve felt closer to broken. After I write this blog post, I need to finish my mom’s eulogy. It’s not my first time crafting such a tribute, I had this terrible privilege when my big brother and my dad died. This feels different. Today, a birthday card to a “Darling Daughter” made the tears return. But as quickly as my eyes misted, a firm, and gentle voice reminded me I am not an orphan, I’m a daughter of the King.
I’m also a daughter of the King who needs to finish revising a book. But mostly, I’m in full avoid my desk mode, because that’s where the half-written eulogy lurks, waiting to level me. And it’s okay to lick the wounds of grief for a time. Not forever though, and I’m saddling up to pull out of this malaise and return to some new version of productivity.
For those of you involved in the Christian writing world, you’ll no doubt be aware of some authors who have endured heartbreaking losses over the past few months. I spoke to several before writing this post. They’re all women of God I greatly admire. I won’t be naming them, but if you find anything helpful here, my request would be that you lift a simple prayer of blessing for those who grieve. The Lord knows who needs that gift.
Scripture is clear that we go through seasons and valleys. And some of them are awful. We will have trouble. But Jesus can get us through even the seemingly impossible. I have four key principles I’m clinging to, in order to be back at my desk, even though it feels like my world has ended, and I really want to avoid thinking, eat chocolate and binge anything halfway decent.
Prayer
If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you’ll know most things begin with prayer for me. These days, I discuss simple things. Prayers for the strength to endure, to still be a decent mother myself, and a supportive wife. For the courage to face the hard decisions and thoughts that reduce me to sobs. For the emotional capacity to sit at my desk and create. One writer friend reminded me God has big shoulders and can handle our emotions.
Acknowledgement
Have you ever just tried to push through a tough time? When I was learning to fly sailplanes the instructor would try to cajole me through my fears. That only made things worse. It’s the same here. I can go about my normal day but quickly fall apart. Instead, I’m acknowledging what has happened and allowing for things to feel different. Another approach I learned from a fellow writer is to reposition the death as a move. Because in truth, this isn’t the end. This was a relocation, we will be reunited one day, and there’s great hope in that.
Grace
We are all human. Jesus gave in to grief over Lazarus, knowing he was about to bring him back to life. There are days when I’ve sat at my desk, opened a document, and realized I desperately needed to binge watch All Creatures Great and Small (set very near where I’m from) or some cop drama. Christmas in July. There are moments when I grab my husband and sob or avoid people. And those breaks are okay. Grief is a sneaky beast and while we are in a valley together, I need to remember success looks different. It’s a shower, making a decent meal, a few hundred words. A few dozen.
Encouragement
Finally, if you’re in this type of season, or encounter one, make sure your cheer squad is up to the task. Set small goals and reward yourself when you meet them. Lynette Eason once told me to just write a few words in the toughest days, and she invited me to text her the word count, however small. Anything to show I’ve not given up. That’s as good advice as I’ve ever heard. The positive accountability of a loving friend or family member is golden. And it circles back to prayer as another writer friend told me, the stories we’ve been given are the Lord’s to begin with, so it makes sense to ask for the strength to tell those stories.
And in closing, to circle back to the start, ask others to pray for you. The prayers of the saints have kept me upright these past few weeks. No doubt about it.
Writer, broadcaster and speaker Debb Hackett has been a radio journalist for more than twenty years. Married to a Royal Air Force test pilot, Debb has written a Bible study for military wives.
A regular contributor to the Advanced Writers and Speakers Devotional Arise Daily, she’s also been privileged to writer chapters for Write Well Sell Well. For now, based near London, England she’s having lots of fun working on a contemporary romance series and was an ACFW Genesis award semi-finalist in 2020.
When she’s not writing, Debb can be found leading worship, playing bass or skiing. If you can swing by her house while she’s making scones, that would also be a win.
The Conversation
Praying for you, Debb.
Debbie, my prayers are with you. I shared the last moments of life on this earth with my father in1996 and my mom, who lived with us for 15 years in 2019. I watched them pass into glory, saw the change in their faces as they met Jesus. Both of these were very difficult, but precious at the same time. I was on staff at the church each was attending so I was “very responsible” for the planning and implementing of the funerals. I admire you for taking time for the right kind of grieving. You have expressed the depth of the process beautifully. Thank you.
Saying a prayer for you today, Debb—that the Lord will comfort you with precious memories of your mom. I’m grateful we have the hope of Heaven and reunion with loved ones someday. Thanks for your words of encouragement.
My heart goes out to you and all those who’ve lost dear loved ones. It’s certainly not easy to move forward without them some days, but I’m so glad we have Jesus to cling to! Thanks for sharing your heart and wisdom.
Excellent post. May God give you peace, Debb.
What a great way to think of this – “reposition the death as a move”. It is a more positive and hopeful way to approach her being gone from earth and now present in heaven.
It’s been just over a year since my mom went to heaven, yet I know how those cards, or photos, can bring the tears. It does get better, Deb, but I don’t try to ignore the hurt because it reminds me how special my mom was in my life. So, I shed tears and then smile.
I am praying for you.