Author

Lois Flowers

The Hospitality of Shared Grief

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside:  When someone makes an effort to meet us where we are—with an overture or gesture they believe we would appreciate—it can make all the difference in the world to our hurting hearts. ~

Not long ago, I texted my friend Beth about getting together for coffee. It had been a while since we’d seen each other, and I had heard she had been dealing with some unexpected health challenges.

Beth is a bit further down the parent-loss road than I am. She also knew my mom and dad well from church, and her willingness to share in my grief has been a great blessing to me these last few years.

Beth responded that she’d love to meet for coffee, but that wasn’t all.

“Maybe we could go out to your parents’ grave afterwards?” she wrote.

A Kind Invitation

As I pondered this kind invitation later, the phrase that came to mind was “the hospitality of shared grief.”

At first glance, grief and hospitality may not seem like words that go together. The way I see it, though, they are an appropriate duo.

Hospitality denotes a warm welcome, a comfortable table, encouraging conversation, common feelings. What better place to be, as a grieving person, than in the tender presence of another person who understands?

Maybe not because they have lived through the same exact loss, but because the sadness they have endured has enlarged their ability to relate.

What it Looks Like

The hospitality of shared grief takes on many forms—as varied as the personalities and experiences of the people participating in it.

It might look like hug in the church lobby. A conversation over coffee or Zoom. A card or text on a difficult anniversary date. A walk around the lake. A morning spent cooking a treasured family recipe together.

It can also be extended through the offer to read a book together, unshed tears in the eyes of a gentle listener or even an empathetic comment on a blog or Instagram post.

Intentional Overtures

These gifts of compassion aren’t elaborate or expensive. But they are intentional. And that’s one of the best things about them.

When someone makes an effort to meet us where we are—with an overture or gesture they believe we would appreciate—it can make all the difference in the world.

Beth and I did visit the cemetery the day we met for coffee. She told me that she stops by my parents’ gravesite when she is missing her own parents, who are buried in a different state.

Being there with her was comforting to me, and so was knowing she also finds solace there. Whether it’s in the cemetery or somewhere else, I have feeling this won’t be the last time we experience the hospitality of shared grief together.

• • •

Have you ever experienced the hospitality of shared grief? What did that look like for you?

♥ Lois

The hospitality of shared grief takes on many forms: a hug in the church lobby, a conversation over coffee or Zoom, a card or text on a difficult anniversary date, a walk around a lake. Share on X When someone makes an effort to meet us where we are—with an overture or gesture they believe we would appreciate—it can make all the difference in the world. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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We Fall Down, We Get Up Again

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: In running—and in life—falls are often unavoidable. Along the way, we might acquire skills that help us stay upright. But when we do land on the ground, we don’t have to stay there. ~

Since I started running outside about four years ago, I’ve taken two bad falls, both on wooden bridges near my home.

At the time, I blamed the wipeouts on personal clumsiness. And it’s true—I’m not the most coordinated person in the world.

One day, though, I decided to see if falling is common among runners. Turns out, I’m not the only one.

The Art of Falling

Here’s how the Tallahassee Democrat newspaper describes it in an article titled “If You’re a Serious Runner, There’s an Art to Falling While Running”:

“One moment you are streaking along feeling like you are invincible and the next moment you find yourself on the ground taking inventory of face, knees, arm and more to figure out how more than your pride got hurt in ‘The Fall.’”

Whether I am a “serious runner” is up for debate. I’ve never jogged on a wooded trail, where Google indicates runners are prone to fall after tripping on tree roots. Even so, I can relate to every word in the previous paragraph.

Safe Landing?

I didn’t find any articles citing stats about how often runners fall, just that many do, and increasingly so as they get older.

In his later years, when unsteadiness became a major issue, my dad used to say that he “knew how to fall.” I might have scoffed at this a bit, but now I’m guessing he had either used his engineering expertise to learn this skill, or else he read about it on the internet.

An article on the Runner’s World website titled “Ensure a Safe Landing” purports to help, but I’m not so sure. Rehearsing instructions like “in mid fall, twist or roll your body to the side” ahead of time might sound like a good idea. But when I’m hurtling toward the ground after tripping on an uneven board on the bridge, twisting or rolling is the farthest thing from my mind.

That said, I have gotten myself out of a few falls, usually on the flat asphalt path. When I feel myself starting to stumble, I concentrate on running through it until I gain my balance back. I don’t look very graceful doing this, but I always breathe a sigh of relief that I’ve run another day without falling.

Down But Not Out

In running—and in life—we fall, and we get up again. Along the way, we might acquire skills that help us stay upright. But falling is often unavoidable.

Our falls may be due to clumsiness, inexperience, lack of knowledge or perhaps even sin. But however we fall—through outbursts of anger, wasting time, spiraling into needless worry, tripping over a curb, you name it—being down doesn’t have to be permanent.

Sometimes we can get up, dust off and keep going. Other times, injuries—to our bodies or perhaps our relationships—need attention.

For example, I banged up my kneecap the last time I fell while running. My injury appeared to be a case of prepatellar bursitis, also known as “housemaid’s knee.” It didn’t hurt when I ran, but it took several weeks for the swelling to go down and my knee to look normal again.

Making Things Right

We might feel embarrassed when we fall, but there’s a good chance that if anyone saw us, they would feel badly for us and want to help. Plus, if we go about life worrying about what other people might think, we’ll never get back out there after a stumble—wherever “out there” might be.

If our horizontal relationships are harmed by a fall, however it happens, we might need to set aside our pride, apologize and ask for forgiveness. Same with our vertical relationship—with the God who made us and knows our every predisposition toward sin.

The good news is that with God, every day offers a fresh start.

His mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:23).

Next Time

We fall down; we get up again. And, hopefully, we take greater care the next time we encounter a situation where we are prone to fall.

I’ve learned running on bridges is hazardous for me, so now, I try to be aware of slick spots, uneven boards, what’s ahead of me, where my feet are landing.

And sometimes, just making it across a slippery wooden bridge without falling is a win worth celebrating.

♥ Lois

However we fall—through outbursts of anger, wasting time, spiraling into needless worry, tripping over a curb, you name it—being down doesn’t have to be permanent. Share on X We fall down; we get up again. Hopefully with greater care taken the next time we encounter a situation where we are prone to fall. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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The Healing Power of Writing

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: You don’t have to be a professional wordsmith to benefit from writing through grief. Here are a few practical tips if you’re not sure how to start or you’re afraid it might be too painful. ~

The healing power of writingMy parents died five years ago this spring. As I ponder my grief journey, I see how writing through it—here on the blog as well in other places—has facilitated a huge amount of healing in my life.

I suppose this makes sense. I’ve been writing for many decades at this point, first as a member of my high school newspaper staff and then later as a reporter and editor for several different types of print news publications.

News writing isn’t the same as grief writing, of course. I suppose my education for that began when I started typing up my daily prayers, and then continued when I started this personal blog almost a decade ago.

Word Therapy

All these years later, it’s hard for me to process almost anything in my life without writing it down first. While that’s partly due to internal wiring and work experience, I believe people with other personalities and professional backgrounds also can be helped tremendously by writing through grief and loss.

Here’s my theory: If you can talk, you can write. And writing helps.

Grief expert David Kessler talked about one benefit during a recent webinar called “The Healing Power of Writing.”

“Healing doesn’t mean forgetting. Healing means the event no longer controls us,” he explained. “Writing is a way of taking control.”

What if it Hurts?

When people ask Kessler if it will hurt to write about what they’ve gone through, his answer is always the same: “You’ve got an illusion that writing will make it painful. It’s already painful.”

In other words, yes, it will probably hurt, but it’s also worth it.

If this sounds intriguing to you but you’ve never tried it, one place to start is by journaling.

It doesn’t have to be neat. It doesn’t even have to be on actual paper.

Printing vs. Typing

My family will readily tell you my handwriting is terrible. To be fair, it got that way from years of scribbling notes during newspaper interviews and press conferences. It’s still bad, though, which is why typing is more helpful for me.

For some, the act of writing by hand is soothing and therapeutic. But if that’s not you, you can open up a Word document or the notes file on your phone.

You don’t have to produce complete paragraphs or sentences. A bulleted list works just as well.

What Happened?

If you don’t want to write about your feelings regarding a particular event or set of circumstances, jot down what you think about it instead. If that’s still too tender, just write what happened.

Start with the facts. Ask yourself questions. You might be surprised where that takes you.

Chances are, your feelings will come out eventually. But if you’re not striving to answer, “How are you feeling?” your thoughts may flow more freely.

Your words don’t have to be lyrical or poetic. You don’t have to write like your favorite author; in fact, you shouldn’t even try.

Just Write Like You Talk

Nobody needs to read what you write unless you show them. If you’re worried about someone finding your journal when you’re dead, or if you accidently leave your notebook lying around, type what you want to say and then delete it.

Or write it down and tear it up. Or protect it with a password only you know.

If what you’re writing makes you cry, that’s OK. Don’t be alarmed by tears. They’re therapeutic.

If it hurts, remember Kessler’s words. It hurt before you started. Writing it down actually could lessen the pain a bit. Over time, it could lessen it a lot.

Don’t Rush It

At some point in the future, the weight of grief will lift and you may feel inspired to keep writing for other reasons. Don’t rush it, though.

Your goal is healing. Processing. Getting the words out to create new pathways for your neurons.

You’re not looking for ways to add more stress to your life, so don’t feel like you ever have to share your writing with anyone unless you want to.

Do Something Else

And if, after you’ve read all this, you still don’t want to write anything, that’s totally OK too.

Go for a walk. Bake some cookies. Put on some loud music and clean your bathroom. Call a friend and talk for an hour on the phone (yes, people still do that).

Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

We can rest in this promise whether we write through our grief or not.

• • •

Does journaling or some other form of writing help you work through your struggles or grief? Please share in the comments.

♥ Lois

If you don’t want to write about your feelings regarding a sad event, jot down what you think about it instead. If that’s still too tender, just write what happened. Share on X If what you’re writing makes you cry, that’s OK. Don’t be alarmed by tears. They’re therapeutic. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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30 Years and Counting: 4 Keys to a Happy Marriage

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: Three decades after saying “I do,” I share a few thoughts about laughing together, embracing differences, dealing with “the unforeseens” and growing older with the one you love. ~

My first clue that this wedding anniversary might not be like all the others was when I got choked up reading the “husband” cards at Wal-Mart. Then I found two cards I really liked, rather than barely coming up with one that said just the right thing without being too wordy.

That’s never happened before.

Maybe it’s this season of having both daughters away at college for the first time. Or perhaps I keep thinking back five years ago to our 25th anniversary, which came along weeks before both my parents died.

Whatever the Case

Thirty years is hitting me different, it seems.

We’ve never been big into anniversary trips and whatnot. Randy replaced my plain gold wedding ring with a diamond anniversary band once. This gift came at 11 years, though, rather than some more traditional milestone date.

I’m OK with all that.

I don’t blog about marriage very often, nor do I gush about “my man” much on Instagram. Even so, the state of our union is good. And since this month’s Share Four Something post falls directly on our anniversary date, I thought I’d offer a few keys to “long-haul love,” as I like to call it.

• Laugh Together

 Randy and I were on our way to the grocery store. As we entered the parking lot, I noticed a “Tent Sale” sign advertising one of those events where they bring merchandise outside and display it under a big white awning.

“I didn’t know they sold tents at HyVee,” Randy said as we drove by the sign.

The minute the words left his mouth, I burst out laughing. Not simply because what he said was funny, but because I knew—with 100 percent certainty—that he was going to say it.

My laughter made him laugh, and we sat there chuckling as people who have been married a long time sometimes do. Our daughter Molly rolled her eyes in the backseat, which didn’t surprise me a bit since I used to do the very same thing in the back of my dad’s old Rambler as my parents cackled over some inside joke up front.

We’ve always been a laughing family, back when it was just the two of us and especially as our girls were growing up. And not just in seasons when everything was going right, either.

In the saddest season of my family’s history, we found comfort and healing in laughter.

“The couple who laughs together stays together” might not have the same ring as other common sayings, but I think it’s true too.

• Embrace Your Differences

Even though we scored the same four letters on the Myers Briggs test we took during our premarital counseling, Randy and I are not exactly alike. We have some similar personality traits, but we process the world very differently.

I’m seeing this more and more as we get older, and it’s a good thing.

We both bring characteristics to the table that sometimes frustrate each other but also make each other better. We can learn from the ways that we are different and either appreciate them more or perhaps emulate them ourselves.

This kind of growth must be self-directed, however. It’s not a matter of thinking we can change each other, like we (I) assumed when we first got married. Rather, it’s more of attitude that says, “Maybe he’s been on to something all these years and perhaps it’s time I looked into that more.”

• Expect the Unforeseens

 Last fall, Randy was in the middle of demoing the second-floor bathroom when we discovered water in the basement media room. He left the mess upstairs to rip out and replace the soggy carpet. (This entails much more than simply buying new carpet squares, by the way).

He’d barely gotten back to working on the bathroom when we left to visit Lilly in Spain. We returned home on Thanksgiving Day with Covid, which prolonged the completion of the bathroom even longer. (Turns out, tiling between coughing fits is just as awful as it sounds.)

John Lennon was right when he sang, “Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans.” This includes the “unforeseens,” as Randy tells me such problems are called in the commercial construction industry.

Over the course of a marriage, we do well when we understand that these unexpected situations will happen, even if we don’t know what they will be, and take each one as it comes.

The sooner we figure out how to roll with the unforeseens together, the better off we’ll be.

• Commit to Growing Old Together

Real life is not a Hallmark movie. Things fall apart, including our bodies as we age.

We do our best to keep ourselves moving forward, of course. But we also need to give ourselves—and each other—grace as we age.

I learned this lesson by watching my parents in their later years. We never know what challenges may come our way or how we will respond to them. However, knowing what could happen—because we saw it happen to our loved ones—gives us a chance to decide some things ahead of time.

To hold our expectations and plans loosely. To never say never. To willingly receive input from others who might be able to see things more objectively.

I’m reminded of a favorite Psalm that just might become my prayer for this season of my life and marriage.

“Teach us to number our days carefully so that we may develop wisdom in our hearts. …

“Satisfy us in the morning with your faithful love so that we may shout for joy and be glad all our days.

“Make us rejoice for as many days as you have humbled us, for as many years as we have seen adversity.

“Let your work be seen by your servants, and your splendor by their children.

“Let the favor of the Lord our God be on us; establish for us the work of our hands, establish the work of our hands.” ~ Psalm 90:12-17

• • •

If you are married, how long? Have you come up with any of your own keys to long-haul love? If you’re single, please share any lessons about life that you may have learned from observing a loved one’s marriage.

♥ Lois

The unforeseens are part of life, and the sooner we figure out how to roll with them together, the better off we’ll be. Share on X Knowing what could happen as we age together—because we saw it happen to our loved ones—gives us a chance to decide some things ahead of time. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with sharefoursomethings, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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It’s Hard to Wait for God to Rescue a Loved One

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: As time drags on and it seems like nothing ever changes, it helps to remember a few key truths about faith, feelings and God’s faithfulness. ~

When it comes to faith, I often find it easier to trust God in the middle of my own struggles than it is to wait for Him to come to the rescue of someone I love.

I don’t know why this is. I just know that it happens

Maybe it’s because I don’t like to wait. I look up movie spoilers in the middle of the show. I always read the end of the book first.

Perhaps it’s a control or trust issue.

Only Human

Or maybe I’m just a finite human being who longs for a happy ending—and an easy way to get there. I’m guessing I’m not the only one, either.

We can’t make God answer our prayers in the way we want, when we want. We can’t force an outcome.

We might like to, but we can’t.

We also can’t make other people respond how we might respond—or how we think we might respond—to any given trial. While God offers only one way to salvation, He relates to each mind and heart in a unique way, much like any other loving parent interacts with his or her children individually.

What’s Taking So Long?

God’s plans for each of us are for our good. I believe this, and you probably do too.

Not in a cliche, pat-answer kind of way, but deep down—in that place where we trust His sovereignty even when the plans He unfolds don’t make any sense to us and might even seem to be the opposite of good.

But as time drags on and nothing changes—at least nothing that’s readily apparent—it’s easy to wonder.

What’s taking so long? What’s the point of all this? Is healing ever going to come?

Fickle Feelings

It’s possible these questions stem from doubt or a lack of faith. But often, they’re based on feelings, which are fickle. They ebb and flow, depending on all kinds of internal and external stimuli.

Faith, on the other hand, is based on a relationship with God, which is eternal.

I believe every word of Jeremiah 32:17: “Ah, Sovereign Lord, you have made the heavens and the earth by your great power and outstretched arm. Nothing is too hard for you.”

God could remedy in an instant the situations in which our loved ones find themselves. When He doesn’t, it makes us sad to see them struggling or suffering. To feel otherwise would be somewhat less than human, I think.

What Faith Is

And sadness does not indicate an absence or lack of faith. Faith has nothing to do with feelings, in fact. According to Hebrews 11:1, it’s “being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”

We can’t see what’s going on behind the curtain, but we do know there’s not a fake wizard back there. The God who is working in the lives of our loved ones is the same God who was with Jeremiah and all the other Old Testament prophets—the very same ones who wondered when God was going to act and yet wrote so eloquently about His compassion, protection, mercy and justice.

So while we keep praying for Him to move, let’s encourage our hearts with this truth: that “the God of all grace, who called [us] to His eternal glory in Christ Jesus, will personally restore, establish, strengthen, and support [us] after you have suffered a little.” (1 Peter 5:10)

♥ Lois

Feelings ebb and flow, depending on all kinds of internal and external stimuli. Faith, on the other hand, is based on a relationship with God, which is eternal. Share on X While God offers only one way to salvation, He relates to each mind and heart in a unique way, much like any other loving parent interacts with his or her children individually. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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The Key to Aging Joyfully

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: Younger women have much to learn from older saints who have lived through hard times and yet still radiate joy at every turn. ~

We hear a lot about trauma these days. Much of it is not what we would have called trauma five or 10 years ago.

Whether we consider this development to be positive, unhelpful or somewhere in between, it’s clear the narratives surrounding the issue are constantly evolving and often vary depending on age.

Ask a Millennial or Gen-Z believer about the trauma in her life. Then turn around and ask an 80- or 90-year-old who has been following Jesus for many decades the same question. I can’t say this with 100 percent certainty, but you will probably get vastly different answers.

Why the Difference?

Some of this relates to personality, of course. Also to semantics and generational differences regarding how comfortable we are speaking about the hard things in life.

Even so, I think younger women (including Gen-Xers like me) could learn a great deal from much older Christians, especially the ones who radiate joy at every turn.

Chances are, these precious saints have faced a variety of challenges in their lives. Some were born in the Great Depression; many lived through World War II and all sorts of national upheaval over the years.

They might not be accustomed to talking about it. But they also may have experienced personal trials and losses that might be considered traumatic today, and for good reason.

Focusing on God

Even so, as they get closer to the ends of their lives, they choose to focus on God’s love and grace, on His goodness and provision, rather than on anything negative. Again, this might be a generational thing. But I also think it helps explain why they’ve been able to maintain such a joyful spirit all these years.

Attitude may not be everything, but it is something—this much is true.

I’m “only” 53, so I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about dying. I do ponder what I want to be like as I get older, though. Especially if I am fortunate enough to live to be very old.

Blessing After Blessing

Several weeks ago, I read a blog post about an 89-year-old woman who had been hospitalized for a serious illness right before Christmas. The blogger, Melissa Edgington, was amazed at how her friend described her time in the hospital.

“She told me about how she met Jesus there, in the days leading up to His birthday,” Melissa wrote here. “He sent a steady stream of doctors, nurses, and support staff to her side to show His love to her in personal ways. …

“She insisted that this experience was blessing after blessing after blessing,” Melissa added. “She knew that God had placed her exactly where she needed to be to know His love in a very tangible way through the caring hands of the people He created.”

Another Example

As I read this story, I couldn’t help but think of my own Aunt Renate. Now 93, she radiates the same kind of contentment and peace Melissa observed in her elderly friend.

I recently shared with Aunt Renate a piece I had written that referred to Romans 8:28—the truth that all things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose. She told me she’s always believed the truth of that scripture, but each day she appreciates it more.

“All the things that have happened to me are truly because of God’s great love,” she wrote in an email. “If I had known how good they all are for me, I would have wanted them to happen. God is so good.”

That sort of perspective doesn’t come from constantly ruminating on all the bad things—past, present or future—in the world or in our lives. It comes from meditating on God’s character, thanking Him for His provision, trusting in His mercy and grace.

Walking Home Well

No matter how old we are, our long walk home to heaven will likely include some degree of grief and pain. But when I think about Aunt Renate and Melissa’s friend, I’m hopeful that it doesn’t have to be a miserable journey.

I don’t know if I’ll live to be 93. If I do, though, I hope Aunt Renate’s recent words to me will be the same words I freely share with others.

“I have had and am having a wonderful life,” she said. “I stand on all of God’s wonderful promises.”

♥ Lois

Younger women (including Gen-Xers like me) could learn a great deal from much older Christians, especially the ones who radiate joy at every turn. Share on X Our long walk home to heaven will likely include some degree of grief and pain. But it doesn’t have to be a miserable journey. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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