Lisa Appelo's Blog

Grief and loss ripple through every corner of life. One surprising after-effect of Dan’s death was an intense longing for heaven in grief. My beloved was there and I dearly wanted to be where he was.

At first, I qualified this new longing for heaven by telling others I harbored it “in a healthy way.” I was now a solo mom of seven children walking their own grief and, painful as it was to get out of bed each morning and meet the day, I was absolutely committed to showing up and parenting as well as I could.

But I now see there was no need to qualify it. A longing for heaven is not only natural in grief but fitting for Christians. Paul echoes this in 2 Corinthians 5 writing, “Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling…as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord.” (2 Cor. 5:2, 6, NIV)

Sorrow and suffering bring an increased affection for heaven. I’ve seen that in seven meaningful ways.

1. Heaven seems closer.

It’s not that I never thought about heaven before Dan’s death. But heaven had always seemed far off in time and space. It was a someday thing, very distant from our busy days filled to the brim with life. And then, after one excruciating Friday morning, it wasn’t. Heaven no longer feels distant or far away.

Worship becomes the thin place where heaven is especially close. When I’m with my children in church lifting praise to God in God’s powerful presence, it is a short step to see Dan just the other side of the veil, face to face with Father and Son, praising alongside an angelic host in unrestricted glory and adoration.

2. We long to be present with God

God has put eternity in our hearts. (Ecclesiastes 3:11) God designed us to be with him, living in the perfection and glory of his presence. Sin separated us from God and while Jesus’s death on the cross restores a right relationship to all who believe, we can only see and know God partially this side of heaven.

So many of our questions about heaven are about streets of gold and the style of our mansions. We want to know what we’ll do with all of our time and whether our beloved animals will be with us. Heaven will be glorious not because of pearl gates and gold streets but because God is there. We will finally It begs the question—do I long for God’s presence now?

But in heaven we will see God face to face and know him as we are fully known.

3. We realize this world is not our home.

They say home is where the heart is and our hearts are at home with God. When someone we love goes to heaven, we have one less tie to this world and one more to eternity. The things of this world where we’ve invested so much time and energy, grow strangely dim.

We realize how short life is. Whether we live to 8 or 18 or 80 years old, this life is a flash. Scripture says our lives are like a mist that appears for a bit and then vanishes, and that our days are like the grass and flowers of the field that flourish and are then gone with the wind. (James 4:14; Psalm 103:15-16)

C.S. Lewis said, “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”

4. We long for no more sorrow.

God tells us He “heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” And while much of that healing will come this side of heaven, we won’t find full healing until heaven. I don’t think I knew that before loss.

In heaven, God will wipe away every tear where “death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Rev. 21:4, ESV) Heaven will free us from every ache, grievance, and worry this world dishes up.

5. We long to be reunited with beloved ones.

Listen, we will run to Jesus and the Father first to worship, but I hope just near them I’ll see Dan with his signature smile. Maybe you’ll see your mom or dad you’ve missed for years, a baby you never got to meet, or a child you’ve longed to hold again. We’ll be together again for eternity.

The anticipation of reunification is one reason we can grieve with HOPE. In First Thessalonians 4:13-14, Paul writes, “Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.” Death for believers never ends the relationship. It’s only a temporary separation until we go to heaven or Christ returns.

6. We no longer fear death.

Dan’s death brought the sting of death as I grieved but it stripped away the fear of death. The moments of birth and death are holy, one ushering in new life and the other transitioning life. I was with Dan in those last moments. And though they came suddenly and without any warning, I knew I was witnessing a holy relocation. His death wasn’t a brutal dead-end but a beautiful beginning of eternity with his heavenly Father.

I no longer fear death. I want to live life as fully as possible and I pray God keeps me here for a good while to keep sowing into my children and grandchildren. But I fully trust God has recorded every one of my days in his book before one of them came to be. (Psalm 139:16)

7. We long for the glory that’s coming

In 2 Corinthians 4:17-18 (NIV), Paul encourages believers, “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

This eternal perspective helps Christians endure not just loss and grief but all suffering, knowing our suffering is temporary and even light compared to the everlasting glory that awaits us in eternity. We want to be heavenly-minded while intentionally walking out each day God gives us here.

Randy Alcorn, writing in his seminal book Heaven, says this about our longing for heaven:

“Nothing is more often misdiagnosed than our homesickness for Heaven. We think that what we want is sex, drugs, alcohol, a new job, a raise, a doctorate, a spouse, a large-screen television, a new car, a cabin in the woods, a condo in Hawaii. What we really want is the person we were made for, Jesus, and the place we were made for, Heaven. Nothing less can satisfy us.”

Will you be in heaven? Heaven is for those who come by way of the cross—through repentance and faith in Jesus Christ. If you want to know more about an abundant relationship with God here and the security of heaven with him for eternity, read here about who Jesus is.

The post Longing for Heaven in Grief appeared first on Lisa Appelo.

How do I know if God is closing a door? That’s a question I’ve watched my long-time writer friend, Abby McDonald, wrestle through in real time. She’s sharing three questions to discern whether difficulty is an obstacle or signals a closed door.

“I miss our friends,” I told my husband with a sigh. He nodded knowingly as we sat down to dinner with our two-year-old. Boxes lined the corners of my in-law’s basement apartment. We’d just moved in weeks before, after our second cross-country move in four years.

Before we’d made this big transition, we’d covered it in prayer, and God repeatedly signaled us to “Go.” We knew that a new church community and friendships were crucial, but both were slow in coming. In addition to a growing loneliness, we encountered other problems, such as selling our previous home and finding temporary housing while we waited.

When we make big life decisions and encounter difficulties, how do we know the difference between a closed door and a distraction? We want to honor God with choices that will help us grow and thrive. We know we aren’t guaranteed a trouble-free life, but how do we know when God is signaling us to walk away?

During those first few months after our move, I considered returning to our previous home in Utah several times. Our house sat on the market, seemingly beckoning our return. I longed for certainty about what the future held, but questions brought more ambiguity than answers.

Despite our struggle, I knew another move wasn’t the answer. Through lots of prayer (and some whining, too), God showed me that I needed to adopt a long-term perspective on our circumstances, rather than focusing on our short-term problems.

He showed me a disruption to my well-laid plan didn’t mean He wasn’t making a way forward.

But sometimes, we don’t even consult God to determine if a disruption to our plans is from Him. We assume it isn’t, and we call it quits.

What if distractions can be holy moments? What if instead of obstructions to our path, LINK we viewed them as opportunities to transform our minds?

In Romans 12:2, Paul tells us this world follows a pattern. He exhorts us not to conform to it, but heeding this instruction requires a transformation on our part.

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” (ESV) The problem is that we often adopt habits or patterns to deal with the complexities of life without even realizing it.

The good news? We have a Guide who is more than willing to help us when we are intentional about seeking Him. Here are three questions we can ask ourselves when we face obstacles to our path and wonder whether they signal a closed door or a distraction.

1. Have I prayed to God and asked Him to either remove this obstacle or help me persist through it?

Even if God doesn’t remove the obstacle, He often gives peace in the middle of it. He will also help us to see new ways He’s working in our situation, ways we often don’t expect or anticipate.

Now, if we’re experiencing constant anxiety or emotional turmoil, this may be a sign that we need to draw a boundary or close a door. God does not want us to sacrifice our health on the altar of pride. But He does want to grow us up, and this sometimes means persisting through discomfort.

2. How might my resolve or persistence through this obstacle grow not only my faith but the faith of others who are watching?

If we’re never prompted to step outside our area of familiarity, we won’t grow. What we view as a closed door is often God’s way of refining us into followers who are relentless in our pursuit of His call on our lives. The troubles we face could become living testimonies of His faithfulness and opportunities for Him to move in ways only He could.

3. To overcome this obstacle, does God have to intervene in ways only He can?

There are times when, unless God intervenes, the hurdles will be impossible to surmount. He places us in these positions so that we will not only call on Him, but witness a miracle. And often, others will too.

As we share our testimony and invite others to be part of what God is doing, revival can happen. However, if our faith relies solely on our ability and we don’t have to test the limits, our view of God may remain within the box we’ve placed Him in.

Sometimes, the biggest distraction to our persistence with God is waiting. But what if we viewed waiting as an opportunity to seek God’s heart more?

The months after our family moved forced my husband and me to rely on God in new ways and trust Him more than we trusted a specific outcome. When the road ahead seemed uncertain, we had to repeatedly surrender our “How long, Lord?” to Him.

In time, we found a church home, friends, and community. Our house took longer to sell than we wanted, but God provided during the in-between. And as I look back on that season of our lives now, I can see God’s hand all over it.

Friend, if you’re going through a challenging season right now and wondering whether God is closing a door, can I encourage you to seek Him before walking away? Sometimes, God uses what appears to be a closed door as a training ground for righteousness.

He uses it as an opportunity to shape our desires into His desire and grow our character. During those seasons, we remember the value of persistence and patience. Our roots grow deep into the soil He tills with His love and tenderness.

If the door is closed, God will make it clear. But if it isn’t, keep seeking, waiting, and persevering. And in time, you will see the mighty work He did in that place.

*Elements of this piece were adapted from Abby McDonald’s new book, Surrendering Certainty, available wherever books are sold.

Abby McDonald is the author of Shift and the new book, Surrendering Certainty: Hearing God Today by Letting Go of Tomorrow, a fellow sojourner’s guide to get unstuck and respond to God’s voice in faith. Abby is also a speaker and writing coach, and writes for Proverbs 31 Ministries; daily devotional, Encouragement for Today. When she’s not writing, Abby taxis her three kids around while drinking copious amounts of coffee. Sign up for Abby’s free 5 Days to Unstuck Challenge to help you break free from patterns of insecurity and regret, and connect with her on Instagram.

The post How Do I Know if God is Closing a Door? appeared first on Lisa Appelo.

“I’m gonna need books,” I told a couple friends as the fog of grief descended. Hours earlier, I’d awakened to my husband’s last breaths on the pillow next to mine. Without any warning, I’d gone to bed happily married and woken up a widow and solo mom to seven children. Now, I needed to know what to expect in grief.

While everyone mourns differently, grievers share many of the same sorrows and struggles. There’s comfort in simply knowing what we experience is a normal part of the grief journey. As such, I’m sharing ten things every griever needs to hear.

1. Lament is your way through.

I remember wondering if there was a way through grief and how to even begin navigating it. Scripture models a way through with lament. Lament is taking our hardest emotions and questions to God and choosing to trust God’s comfort and faithfulness. It can look like journaling out our emotions, audible cries or soft tears, and groanings too deep for words.

“Lament is a prayer in pain that leads to trust,” says Mark Vroegop. We don’t have to fake our way through grief with God. As we process our pain, lament helps us unburden emotions too heavy for us to carry, work through them, and cling to hope through God’s character and promises.

2. You can’t rush grief.

If we could only fast forward through the excruciating pain of loss. But there is no rushing grief. Nor can we stuff it or avoid it. If we don’t deal with grief on our terms now, it will come back on its terms later.

Grief lasts longer than we expect and is harder to walk through than we imagine. Sometimes it feels like one step forward and three steps back. But God never imposes a timeline for our grief. We can let ourselves off the hook of expectations that we should be doing better or feeling better. So long as we are facing the pain and working through it, we can trust that God is moving us through the valley of sorrow.

3. Physical grief is real.

When Dan died, I felt a constant ache like someone had carved me from the inside out. I could barely eat, but the gnawing hunger didn’t even register against the physical pain of grief I carried.

Grief affects us not only emotionally and mentally, but physically as well. Loss affects our eating, sleeping, immune system, heart health, breathing, energy and more. It shows up in muscle soreness, headaches, and nausea. It wrings us out, leaving us run down and exhausted. Rest and Biblical self-care are essential as we absorb the effects of grief.

4. It’s normal for interests to wane.

I’m a long-time homeschooling mama. Before Dan’s death, I loved to pour over curriculum catalogs, teach classes and tutorials, and pull together hands-on unit studies. When Dan died, it was like a switch turned off. I couldn’t have cared less about lesson plans. I’d taught AP Government, but who cared about world politics when my world had imploded?

Apathy is a normal part of grief. Loss causes us to re-evaluate what matters and what doesn’t. It consumes our mental, emotional, and physical energy so there’s little left over for other activities. I never regained the intense zeal I once had for those interests, though I did by God’s grace continue to homeschool all of my children through graduation. And surprise! As life came back, I developed new interests and passions that have brought deep joy and purpose.

5. Laughter is healing.

The movie Steel Magnolias has a classic scene where Sally Field, playing a mom who’s just buried her grown daughter, goes from heartache to confusion to anger to laughter in a single conversation. The right kind of laughter with the right people is healing. It offers a respite from heavy emotion and a harbinger that the brutal, raw grief will ease.

Laughter with my children was a balm in the sea of dark days. Laughter with friends or even at old movies helped lighten my heart as I walked through grief. Proverbs 17:22 says “a cheerful heart is good medicine.” Ill-timed and careless humor can wound, but laughing in the safety of friends and family lifts the grieving heart.

6. Your path is your path.

Everyone grieves differently. We can’t size up how well we’re doing by comparing our grief journey to someone else’s. Some people find comfort staying busy and being around people while others need time alone and limited activities to grieve.

How we grieve is affected by the type of loss as well as our personality, experiences, family, other relationships, and faith. I grieved differently than my children, my teen boys grieved differently than my teen daughter, and my older children grieved differently than my youngest two.

While our grief journey is unique, not all responses are healthy. We should guard against unhealthy choices in grief leading to consequences that only multiply the pain and prolong the healing.

7. You don’t have what it takes. God does.

Grieving the loss of someone we love is brutal because death was never supposed to be. It will always be painful and feel unnatural, even for losses that aren’t untimely or tragic. We say death is part of life, but it’s only a part because of sin and the fall.

But God. He takes what would be utterly hopeless and gives us hope. We can grieve with hope because of the promise of heaven and eternity with God through faith in Christ. This side of heaven, God walks with us through pain and uses suffering for our good and his glory. Grief is too much for us to bear, but God gives us sustaining grace in the moment and strength to keep moving forward.

8. Grief is a process not a checklist.

If only it was as simple as checking off tasks to move through tidy stages of grief. But grief is a messy mix of conflicting emotions and tough questions that surface in suffering. It takes enormous amounts of energy to process not only the person we dearly miss but the layers of secondary losses.

Grieving involves two things: letting go of the life we wanted with the person we loved and taking hold of the life that is. We mourn for all that’s lost while trying our level best to rebuild. Loss requires us to grapple with grief emotionally, mentally, and even spiritually. As we do the arduous work of processing our loss, we will find ourselves slowly but steadily moving forward.

9. Stay flexible through unpredictability.

When I got pregnant with my first child, I bought books to learn all about the first year of parenting. But reading about babies and raising them are not the same. In the same way, we only know grief by experiencing it. Even then, the range of emotions we feel, their intensity, and their timing ambush us.

I expected the first year to be hard, but was surprised how grueling the second year was. I’d heard about anger in grief, but it was despair that gripped me. And just when I thought I’d made real progress, I would get pulled into a deep pit of sadness. In the twists and turns of bereavement, we can anchor into God who is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

10. Grief doesn’t end. But it won’t always feel like this.

Grief isn’t a destination. I wish more people knew that while grief softens and lessens as we work to process our loss, there’s no finish line for grief this side of heaven. I’ve grown accustomed to doing life without Dan here, but he is still missed at every ordinary dinner and every big milestone.

Scripture says God heals the brokenhearted. (Psalm 147:3) And though God brings most of that healing here on earth, full healing won’t come until heaven. Then, God will wipe away every tear from our eye and death will be no more. “Neither will there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain.” (Revelation 21:4)

The suffering will end. The gaping holes of loss will cease. And freed from effects of the fall, it won’t always feel like this.

The post 10 Things Every Griever Needs to Hear appeared first on Lisa Appelo.

We can grieve for someone suffering miles away. We can carry sorrow for people and families we may never meet.

As most of the nation woke to sun-filled celebrations for the Fourth of July, communities along the Guadeloupe River in Central Texas were grappling with catastrophic flash flooding after a storm.

As of this writing, rescue and recovery teams are still searching for the missing, including a cabin of second grade girls and their counselors from Camp Mystic. The losses are too heavy to take in. I’ve scrolled through countless images and reels, news stories of watery escapes and family members still unaccounted for.

Widespread devastation like this leaves us feeling helpless as we collectively grieve for the unthinkable losses we watch play out.

While we can’t fix the excruciating grief reverberating through families and communities, we can pray. Never doubt that your long-distance prayers matter.

Join me in lifting up those who’ve suffered deep loss, those in leadership, and those in recovery efforts as we hold sorrow and hope.

Lord, we weep with those who are weeping. We grieve the brokenness of this world, the loss of innocence, and the loss of ones dearly loved. We lament as a nation for the deep suffering in families and communities that will change life as they know it. And we also hold hope for miracles. You see every sorrow, you know the gut-wrenching pain, and you hear our groans too deep for words.

There are no words, Lord, but we look to you. Give wisdom to those in leadership making decisions, guide those who are searching, and strengthen those weary in efforts to rescue.

You are our only hope. You are not helpless among the ruins. When we don’t understand the pain of circumstances, help us anchor our trust in you who reigns over our circumstance. Wrap every broken heart in your strong love as you walk them through tasks they never saw coming. Be our refuge in this storm. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

In my own deep loss, scripture was a continual reminder that God is my hope and anchor in the storm. These are some of my go-to scriptures for comfort as we grieve with hope.

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18 (ESV)

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3 (ESV)

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 (ESV)

“He sent from on high, he took me; he drew me out of many waters. He rescued me from my strong enemy and from those who hated me, for they were too mighty for me. They confronted me in the day of my calamity, but the Lord was my support. He brought me out into a broad place; he rescued me, because he delighted in me.” Psalm 18:16-19 (ESV)

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling.” Psalm 46:1-3 (ESV)

“I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:1-2 (ESV)

“He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed.” Psalm 107:29 (ESV)

The post A Prayer of Lament After the Storm appeared first on Lisa Appelo.

When my husband died suddenly on Father’s Day weekend, the day went from a happy celebration to a painful milestone for my children. I can’t fix their hurt and that somehow multiplies my own pain. But I’ve learned to be intentional to make it a meaningful day while also giving my kids space to grieve.

If your children are facing a hard Father’s Day this year because of death or divorce or a dad who just hasn’t shown up for his family as he should, I’m sharing 10 ways grieving can children navigate Father’s Day.

1.Make a new memory at an old place.

Last year, my kids and I went to an old restaurant where their dad and I had our second date. The food took a long time to arrive, which was perfect because we had more time to talk. We walked along the riverbank outside, pitched rocks across the water, and just enjoyed the family we do have. This intentional time together filled our hearts on a day that could have emptied them.

2. Be extra considerate of Father’s Day events at school and church.

My heart dropped one Father’s Day when I picked up my youngest children from their preschool classes at church and discovered they had made Father’s Day cards. My children had made it for their grandfather, which I’m sure a kind teacher had suggested, but it felt like salt in their already wounded hearts.

These Father’s Day events (hello, daddy-daughter dance) can be harsh reminders for our children. After that Sunday, I decided to skip Sunday school on Father’s Day so my kids weren’t forced to do painful activities. We take that day to make our own memories.

3. Plan a meaningful family outing.

Your children may not have an earthly father with them on Father’s Day, but you’re still a family. Take the day for a family outing that gives everyone time to talk, enjoy one another, and reinforce your relationships as a family. This is a great opportunity to include your children on the plans so they feel they have some control over a day that’s hard.

4. Listen to your child’s heart.

Ignoring Father’s Day won’t make the pain disappear and it doesn’t give our children tools to handle their grief. I try to note the pain this day brings but not get stuck in it. Asking your kids some gentle questions gives them permission to express their feelings–or not. Make space for grief, show compassion as they respond, and answer any questions they may have.

5. Tell stories about Dad.

This is one of my favorite ways to honor a father who’s in heaven. Telling stories about how I met their dad, what he was like in high school and college, stories of him before they were born or as they grew helps them know the great man he was. Telling our children stories about their dad helps them know who they are, whose they are, and continues a legacy for them.

6. Visit the gravesite.

On Father’s Day, we often make a day trip to visit my late husband’s gravesite. It’s a beautiful trip into the backroads of Florida and a way to honor him while allowing them space to grieve. When my children were younger, it was important to talk about what happens to us after death and to explain about heaven. As my children have grown, I’ve noticed they become quiet, will often take a walk in the area alone, and have time to process their deep loss.

7. Give them something to remember their dad.

Father’s Day would be a great time to give children a tangible way to remember and honor their dad. Here are a few of my favorite memorial gifts for grieving children.

8. Look through photo albums and watch family movies.

Going through photo albums and old family videos is a great way to bring back warm memories. It may prompt fun stories and help your child celebrate their dad. Photos and videos are also a gentle way to open a conversation with children who may be reluctant to answer questions or speak about their grief otherwise.

9. Help your children lean on their heavenly Father.

Even with meaningful activities, our children will feel the sting of not having their earthly father on Father’s Day. It’s an opportunity to teach them to turn to lean on their heavenly Father. God promises that he is a “father to the fatherless.” (Psalm 68:5) In my own life, I’ve found God’s promises are personal and practical. While we’d never choose this pain for our children, they can know God’s love and faithfulness in ways they wouldn’t otherwise.

10. Honor other men in your child’s life.

Do your children have an uncle, grandfather, or stepfather who has been like a father in many ways? While it will never erase our children’s loss of their earthly father, we can honor the men who are in our children’s lives. Make sure they know it’s okay to both grieve their earthly dad and celebrate a man they do have in their life.

Father’s Day will always be painful for bereaved children, even as grief softens over time. God promises to be a “father to the fatherless” By being intentional, we can help our children navigate their grief and honor their father.

The post 10 Ways Grieving Children can Navigate Father’s Day appeared first on Lisa Appelo.

Easter in grief means we grieve with hope, but we still grieve. If you’re missing someone this Easter, it’s okay to celebrate God’s amazing grace while also bracing ache of loss. When you don’t have words to pray or need to put words to the mix of your emotions, pray this prayer for missing someone at Easter.

Holidays make the reality of loss more acute and this is especially true on Easter with family gatherings, special traditions, and favorite foods make the loss stand out even more. Pictures on our feed make it seem everyone around us is celebrating with their in-tact families which can leave us feeling more alone in our grief.

Easter holds both the hard reality of death and the beautiful reminder of resurrection. We have Easter hope in grief because Jesus paid the penalty for our sin on the cross and defeated death through resurrection. Our last breath here will be our first breath with God as we are alive in Christ.

Jesus’ resurrection also means we have the sure promise of eternity with God, where there is no more suffering and Jesus will wipe away every tear. We can look forward to a day when we see our loved ones in Christ again.

But Easter also holds a paradox for us. While we will never feel the sting of death because of Jesus’ finished work on the cross, we feel the sting of grieving loss and those who have gone to heaven before us.

Whether this is your first Easter without your beloved one or your 21st Easter, it’s okay to celebrate our resurrected Savior and Redeemer and also deeply miss someone at your table. May this prayer meet you in your honest ache this Holy Week.

Lord, I stand in awe once again that you willingly chose to be wounded for me, that you suffered in my place, and that you went to the cross to pay the penalty for my sin. Good Friday for me meant that you endured brutal pain and betrayal and death. Thank you for loving me so much that you stretched your hands on a cross and died in my place. I praise you and magnify you. You are my Redeemer and Savior and the only One worthy to be Lord.

Your resurrection means I grieve with real hope. Your resurrection means my beloved one is alive with you and that I can look forward to eternity with you and them. Your resurrection means I have life here, and while my heart hurts, I cling to the promise that your good and life and joy are for me. Your resurrection means you have the final word and that my story will not end in ashes.

Lord, this Easter, you see my ache and understand my pain. Thank you for being with me in this and for giving me your sustaining grace through each hard moment. I know your resurrection power is alive in me. Because you live, I can face tomorrow. And because you live, this life is worth living. Draw me close to you, continue to heal every sorrow, and redeem every piece of brokenness for my good and your glory. I love you with my whole heart. Help me love you more. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” Romans 8:18 (ESV)

“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer selfis wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen…” 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 (ESV)

“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope…And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord.” 1 Thessalonians 4:13-17 (ESV)

“Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.’” John 11:25-26 (ESV)

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you.” 1 Peter 1:3-4 (ESV)

“In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” 1 Peter 3:6-7 (ESV)

“What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” Romans 8:31-32 (ESV)

“For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:38-39 (ESV)

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:4 (ESV)

The post A Prayer for Missing Someone at Easter appeared first on Lisa Appelo.

For years, I celebrated St. Patrick’s Day like most of the world—with rainbows, clovers, and a green outfit for the day. But the real story of St. Patrick is so much more than luck and leprechauns. It’s the story of a man shaped by gospel hope in suffering who then shaped the world through the gospel. I’m sharing three powerful truths St. Patrick teaches us about suffering.

Fun fact: St. Patrick wasn’t Irish. He was actually born in Roman Britain in the mid-400’s, in the area of Wales. He grew up on a farm and though his father was a deacon and his grandfather a priest, Patrick was a self-confessed unbeliever.

When he was 16, Irish pirates landed on the British coast. They raided his farm while the rest of his family was away and took young Patrick captive. “In the slavery business, no tribe was fiercer or more feared than the Irish,” ​notes historian Thomas Cahill​. Sailing back to Ireland, they sold Patrick as a slave and for six years, he tended sheep, virtually forgotten in remote Northern Ireland. Completely isolated and suffering, he prayed a hundred times a day, and was converted to Christ.

At 22, Patrick escaped and walked 200 miles to the sea. Making his way through France and across Britain, he finally found his way home. Once reunited with his family, though, Patrick felt God’s strong call to return to the very place he’d been enslaved. It was a missionary call to bring the gospel to the tribes of Ireland, immersed in pagan, Celtic worship without Christ.

Patrick returned to Ireland and immediately faced the hostile Celts. Despite numerous, serious threats to his life, Patrick continued to share the gospel, planting churches across the whole of Ireland. By his death 33 years later, it’s said that almost the entire island had converted to Christianity.

God works suffering for our good.

If we got what we wanted, we’d order a mountaintop life that goes from peak to blessed peak. But God does so much in valleys of suffering. Suffering is often the catalyst to see God in ways we never would otherwise, to let go of things of this world, and to set our affection on God. Patrick’s faith and his complete dependence on God was formed in the crucible of suffering.

God brings purpose out of suffering.

Suffering highlights not only our desperate need for God, but the desperate need of others as well. After escaping, Patrick could have easily lived out the rest of his days in a safe Welsh farmhouse. But he returned to share with Ireland the same mercy he’d found there. Like Joseph, Patrick could look at his captors and declare, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” (Genesis 50:20, NIV)

God works suffering for his glory.

Trusting God in the storm glorifies him and praising him in the storm magnifies him. When we follow God even through suffering, it glorifies God. (e.g. John 17:1-2) Suffering speaks, a friend used said to me in my deep grief after Dan died. I think she meant that when life empties, when pain persists, when life has upended, the world is able to see our authentic faith with the living God who meets our needs and cares for us.

Patrick of Ireland was changed through suffering and changed the world because of his suffering. Surely, in his suffering, St. Patrick found the truth he penned in The Breastplate Prayer of St. Patrick:

I arise today Through God’s strength to pilot me: God’s might to uphold me, God’s wisdom to guide me God’s eye to look before me, God’s ear to hear me, God’s word to speak for me, God’s hand to guard me, God’s way to lie before me, God’s host to secure me…

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left Christ where I lie, Christ where I sit, Christ where I arise… May thy salvation, O Lord, be ever with us.

(Find the full prayer here.)

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Some of the purest, most healing worship rises when God is bringing you through what you never imagined you’d have to walk through. Worship in grief is uniquely powerful.

The morning Dan died, my home filled with neighbors, friends, and family. I remember walking into my kitchen where several women were taking care of the food and dishes people were bringing and hearing one of my best friends say, “We need worship music” as she popped a CD into the player.

Later that morning, two other friends called me out of my bedroom to the foot of the stairs. “You need to hear this,” they said. My teens and tweens were upstairs with some of their friends who’d come to be with them in grief. They’d picked up the guitars and were singing worship songs hours after their dad had suddenly gone to heaven.

In the following weeks and months, worship was key in my grief. Certain songs took on new meaning or echoed the cries of my heart. And worship undid me on Sundays. The song set seemed hand-selected for me, every phrase unleashing the deepest worries and prayers of my shattered heart. There, wrapped in the presence of God, my messy mix of emotions triggered hot tears for all that was lost and the hope for what God had for me.

Our grieving hearts need worship. Let’s look at 5 ways worship in grief brings comfort.

1. Worship is lament.

Lament is voicing our hardest emotions and questions to God and choosing to trust God’s comfort and faithfulness. It shows up as quiet tears, audible cries, and choking sobs. But Biblical lament isn’t tears alone. Nearly half of the psalms, which were written to be sung, are psalms of lament. The classic hymn “It is Well” was written after deep loss and the hymn “Abide with Me​” is laced with lament. Many ​contemporary Christian songs express the anguish and pain of loss while also declaring trust in God.

2. Worship is war.

The enemy is palpable in our pain. He comes to steal, kill, and destroy and works overtime when we’re at our weakest. Worship helps us fight his lies with the truth of who God is and how he cares for us. Worship reminds us that Jesus defeated death and that we have the hope of eternal life because of the cross. Worship invokes the powerful name of Jesus so that we have no fear we walk through the valley of the shadow of death.

3. Worship is prayer.

Sometimes our pain is so deep we can’t even put words around it. We desperately need God who alone can lift our despair, comfort us, and restore our joy. Worship is prayer when we have no words. Songs often express what we’re feeling. It brings us to the throne of grace where we find mercy and grace in time of need. Worship takes our eyes off our circumstance and onto God. When we’re so lost in pain we don’t even know how to pray, the Spirit can intercede in groanings too deep for words.

4. Worship is repentance.

When my heart broke open in grief, I knew I was in a good place for God to go ahead and clean it out. Broken before God, I was acutely aware of the junk in my heart. Suffering shakes us. It shows us the idols we’ve set up like control, self-sufficiency, ease, or status. It reveals where we’ve distorted the gospel and made faith out to be a transaction where God owes us a life free from trouble. It clarifies that life is short and this world is not our home. Worship brings us to a posture of humility and surrender to repent and re-align our heart to God’s.

5. Worship is praise.

It’s one thing to declare God is good when life is good. But when life falls apart, will we still bless God? Praising God through pain is a testimony to a watching world that our faith isn’t conditional on circumstances, but anchored in God who’s sovereign over our circumstances. God is worthy and proved how wide and long and high and deep his love for us is on the cross. When we worship God in the storm we renew our hope. Lamentations 3:22-23 says, “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”

Some of the purest, most healing worship rises when God is bringing you through what you never imagined you’d have to walk through. Because worship in grief is uniquely powerful.

The post 5 Ways Worship in Grief Comforts appeared first on Lisa Appelo.

As a Florida girl, I’ve grown up around the ocean. We have wide beaches known for some of the best shell collecting. But it was only after a trip to Maine that I discovered the beauty of sea glass. The year after Dan died, I flew to Maine to visit my brother and sister-in-law. Walking along the shore of Peaks Island one afternoon, my brother bent down, picked up a glass pebble, and handed it to me.

Cradling this smooth, aquamarine piece in my hand, I could immediately see how grief is like sea glass.

Sea glass is made from broken bottles, dishes, or vases intentionally tossed into the ocean as scrap or that land in the water from a shipwreck. As the fragments of glass tumble for years in the salty waves, they become frosted and the sharp edges are worn down, becoming round and smooth.

When Dan died, it felt like someone had taken the beautiful glass vase that was my life and dropped it. Life shattered into hundreds of pieces, fracturing with sharp edges of pain. The shards of my life that remained felt broken beyond repair. I was living out the scraps of the life I always thought would be there.

That afternoon on the Maine shore, I was just over a year into life after loss. My grief felt even more excruciating in the second year, as the fog of grief had lifted and I faced the painful reality that this was now my life. That Maine sea glass symbolized so much of the grief journey I’d been walking through. But it also resounded with hope that ​God could reshape all that had shattered.​

1. Like the making of sea glass, grief takes time.

Sea glass takes 20 to 40 years to create. It’s an incredibly slow process of day-in, day-out tossing by the waves for the glass to get rounded edges and its translucent finish. While thankfully, it doesn’t take decades for the acute pain of raw grief to lessen, grief can’t be rushed. We can’t fast forward through the hard emotions or deep heart work God does in our mourning.

2. Like sea glass, the sharp edges of pain will soften.

If you’ve ever cut your hand on broken glass or stepped on a glass shard, you know how brutally sharp it is. But when broken glass is tumbled by ocean waves, it softens the sharp edges. When you pick up a piece of sea glass, you can see where the sharp edges once were, but running your hand over the edges no longer hurts. The pain of loss softens as well as we do the hard work of processing our grief. Our life will always be shaped by the person we miss, but the sharp pain of fresh grief will soften over time.

3. Like sea glass, grief is a journey of transformation.

Sea glass begins as a vase, bottle or some other container that is shattered. Those pieces can never be put back the same way again. Instead, they begin a journey through crashing waves and ocean currents, coming to rest on sun-washed beaches as smooth glass pebbles. Loss shatters life as we know it and the shards that remain can never be put back together the same way again. Grief is a journey through waves of agonizing pain and emotion. As we walk through grief and lean on God in ways we never would have otherwise, we’re transformed from who we were before loss.

4. Like sea glass, grief makes us see things differently.

Sea glass starts out transparent but becomes translucent in the waves. The light still shines through sea glass, but it looks different. Grief brings an eternal perspective that helps us see life and heaven in ways we never really could before. It helps us see what matters and what doesn’t, to hold loosely those things that aren’t eternal.

5. Like sea glass, God can bring new beauty and purpose from brokenness if we will let him.

Sea glass only exists because something shattered. In that broken state, it seemed ruined. Maybe even worthless. But as it’s reshaped by the ocean waves, a new beauty emerges. Sea glass is rare and valuable, collected and displayed as beautiful treasures. A life shaped by loss holds rare beauty as well. God can take what the enemy meant to ruin to display his stunning glory. When we allow God to use our suffering to chisel out the junk from our heart and makes us like his Son, an unmatched beauty emerges.

There’s at least one important difference between sea glass and grief. While sea glass is at the mercy of the ocean waves, we’re not complete victims of the waves of grief. It can feel like we’ll be pulled under. But we can learn to navigate the waves with God, leaning on him as we process the hard emotions and trust him with our tough questions. Though we’re pummeled by the waves of loss, we have ​proactive steps to help us ride the waves and move forward.

Sea glass doesn’t just symbolize the brokenness of grief. As I held my first piece of Maine sea glass, I saw the hope in grief as well. God can reshape what’s shattered. When we trust God with the broken pieces of our shattered heart, he will bring new beauty and purpose in our life.

The post How Grief is Like Sea Glass appeared first on Lisa Appelo.

Being a single mom often means cringing when the calendar turns to February. Every store is decked with pink and red cards, flowers, and balloons and it seems like everyone has someone but us. But surviving and celebrating Valentine’s Day as a single mom isn’t only possible—it’s the way through a holiday that hurts.

Love isn’t reserved only for couples and neither is Valentine’s Day. These are 5 ways I’ve found to manage Valentine’s Day triggers and enjoy a day to celebrate real love.

1.Love on your children.

My husband was the fun dad and boy have I missed that after he died suddenly. I’ve always tended to be the rule enforcer, but as a single mom I’m now both good cop and bad cop 24/7. I also have a too-long to-do list and can focus more on getting things done for my children than my children themselves. Valentine’s Day—or even the month of February— is the perfect time to make sure our children know how much we love them. It can be through notes posted on their door, a special dinner, a breakfast surprise, speaking words of affirmation over them, or simple telling them every day that we love them.

2. Celebrate your friends.

Celebrating friendship on Valentine’s Day helps us realize how many loving people we have in our lives. Friends fill our worlds with laughter on the good days and offer a listening ear and real conversation on the hard days. Whether it’s work friends who regularly make our day or old friends we rarely get to see, we can reach out with something as simple as an email or e-card and let them know how much they mean to us.

3. Lean into God’s love for you.

God’s love is enough. That’s not a trite cliche meant to dismiss real pain. It’s a reality I found in my loneliest moments after Dan died. When I didn’t know how I could make it through another night alone, God sustained me breath by excruciating breath. And I know he’ll do that for you as well.

Because from one end of the Bible to the other, scripture declares God’s extravagant love for us. No other person can satisfy what our soul craves and our heart needs. God’s love is the soft landing that provides real rest, the salve that soothes the tenderest places, and the covering that wraps us in secure hope.

God’s love is wider, longer, higher and deeper than we could even begin to imagine. When we try to wrap our minds around it, we’ve already limited it. These 28 Bible verses show the powerful impact of God’s love for us.

4. Surprise another single mom or widow.

One of the best ways to brighten what can be a hard day is to bring light to someone else’s day. Scripture says that when we refresh others, we ourselves are refreshed. (Prov. 11:25, NLT) As we pour out comfort to others, God pours his comfort into us. Chances are you know another single mom or widow who needs encouragement. I’m smiling just thinking of the joy a simple bouquet of flowers or a gift would bring to my widowed neighbor who gets few visitors with no local family.

5. Give yourself the gift of Biblical self-care.

Sometimes we do need to buy ourselves flowers. We can be our own valentine and with needed self-care. Maybe it’s an evening out to think our own thoughts and refresh our own soul. Maybe it’s permission to shop for ourselves, because Goodness knows how often a trip to Target turns into shopping for our kids. Maybe it’s an hour to get a pedicure or soak in a tub with a good book. Valentine’s Day is the perfect reminder that single parenting is tough and self-care is healthy for the whole family.

*The first edition of this post appeared at iMOM.com.

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