Saturday, December 29, 2012

A Grief Letter for Christmas


Casey and I had tried to write thank you notes and birth/death announcements for months. Then the holidays were fast approaching and the anticipation of Christmas with it's crowds and parties sent me straight into full out anxiety attacks. 

So, we finally forced ourselves to sit down and create Lilly's announcements along with grief letter and Christmas card. Like most activities involving Lilly, it was painful but deliberate; beautiful and somehow healing. 

Taking family pictures is too sad and empty without her.  We had Casey's parents just take some photos at our house with one of her Christmas ornaments, a pair of little pink shoes, off to the side. It was very hard for me, but Isaac, always full of love and laughter, had us giggling by the end. He is truly my Joy!

Many many of our family and friends have thanked us for the letter. They said it was very helpful and they appreciated being invited in to share Lilly with us. 

I want to share it with you all too...




Dearest Family and Friends,

With heavy hearts, we acknowledge the birth and death of our daughter, Lillian Hope Topping. Born on February 19th of this year, Lilly measured 20 ¾ inches long and weighed a perfect 7lbs 14oz. She had strawberry blond hair and was, and is, the most beautiful baby we’ve ever seen. In her brief life, she touched countless people, spreading the message of Love, Kindness and Hope in the Lord without ever making a sound. Our lives were forever changed by our little girl and she will always be remembered and missed.

During her life and after her death so many of you reached out to us; sending us cards, food, money, gifts and, most importantly, love and prayer. We cannot begin to tell you how much each of those things has helped us through this most difficult season of our lives. Thank you, from the depths of our hearts. We are humbled by your generous acts of love and kindness toward our family.

Unless you have faced a similar loss, we understand how difficult it is to know what to say or do. We know that in the months and years to come it may be awkward and difficult interacting with us, especially around special occasions and the upcoming Holidays. We would like to tell you that it is fine to acknowledge our little Lillian and that we even cherish talking about her. Rejoice in her short life. We love her so much and wish to remember her. Talking about her and sharing our love and grief for her at all times and with everyone else we love, will only help us to heal and grow. So please, do not be afraid to mention our baby girl, for she is already a constant in our minds. If we cry you did not upset us, but rather allowed us to express externally how we already feel internally. We know you cannot see her physically, but we carry her with us always.

Much time has passed and you may be surprised that we still grieve every day. We are still learning how to accept that she is gone and simple things remind us of the empty space where she should be. If we laugh please do not assume we are “over it” and if we cry do not fear that we are stuck in our sorrow. Grief is unpredictable. We know this is difficult for you as well and we just ask that you forgive us if we seem absent and forgetful, if we ramble and repeat ourselves, or if we break down and need our space.

We are forever changed. Our joyful times are so much finer and our sorrowful moments immensely deeper. Knowing the Lord is near us and always providing a rock to lean on has been monumental in our healing. That being said, so have you, our friends and family, helped us during this time with kind words, ears to listen, shoulders to cry on and many, many prayers.

We love you all very much and again appreciate everything you have done and continue to do for us. Thank you for loving us and loving our Lillian Hope.

With Warmest Regards,
Casey, Lorri & Isaac Topping

“Sometimes”, said Pooh, “the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”



Thursday, December 27, 2012

Looking for Purpose in the Pain

I have been feeling numb. I haven't really even been crying very much lately.

I just feel...cold...sad....and angry.

I haven't been able to read very much yet I find myself praying more.

I should read, but I just don't want to put forth the effort, especially when I feel so worn down by the mere thought of the holidays.

I am sleeping more, at least when my son allows it, but I feel more tired than I have in a long time. I want nothing more than to just go back to bed, even if I only got up an hour ago. How blissful it would be to just sleep life away. Well, until the nightmares come anyway.

Winter is getting to me. I can feel the weight of the clouds pressing down on me in the bleak grayness of Ohio winters.

I just want to get away.

When I finally tore myself away from Lilly's lifeless body I told my mother I wanted nothing more than to crawl under a rock somewhere and die. Sometimes I still feel that way, though I would never leave my precious boy.

She just said "I know". The same I would say now if a grieving mother said that to me. My mom buried two sons. I'm so sorry mom, I didn't know this was how it felt.

I am so empty. I feel as if I am waiting for something....

What now Lord? Where do we go from here? What do you want us to do? Surely there is some purpose in the pain!? Lord give me purpose.



It's been weeks since I wrote this, but I remember opening my current Nancy Guthrie book that same night, Hearing Jesus Speak into Your Sorrow, and reading "I Have a Purpose in your Pain" as the next chapter title. I didn't know whether to laugh, cry or throw the thing in the garbage.

I've been so focused on just getting through every day, I didn't get through it till recently.

I have tried to explain what this passage says countless times but never could get it quite right.

      To experience and exude peace when life is crashing down around you, to have the lightness of joy when the weight of sorrow is heavy, to be grateful for what God had given you when you've lost what is most precious to you—that is God at work on the interior of your life, on display in your life. It is the light of God piercing the darkness of this world. Certainly all this is part of God's purpose for the suffering and sorrow in your life. 
     Sometimes God, in his goodness, draws back the curtain and shows us; we can see how he is using our loss in our lives or in the lives of those around us. And other times we have to wait. Certainly we can never expect to see the complete purposes of God in this life. That is where faith is required....

A friend at church recently approached Casey and I and, after having prayed for us, said he felt as if we were going through a desert but soon God's plans would bloom in our life, like the blossoming of a calla lily. He knew nothing of the wasteland my soul had been wondering and, not knowing us all that well, did not even know Lilly's name, only that we had lost a child earlier this year.

Every time I start to question, God shows up in unexplained and unexpected ways.

Life has been crushingly heavy. Living has been a struggle. Pain is everywhere. I asked Casey just yesterday, "So do you think we just never paid attention to all this suffering before or has this been an unusually tragic year?".

On top of the many funerals we have attended and uncounted couples we have met that lost children in 2012, I know five people with cancer, two of which are children (ages 2 and 12).

Then of course there was the shooting in Connecticut. The pain and screams that rolled through me would paralyze the weak hearted.

Babies being murdered!! My God why?? When will you come Lord?? 

I do not know God's purposes. I do not understand how the all-powerful can allow such cruel injustice, but He has showed Himself to me too many times to give up on Hope.
I would gladly trade peace and grace for the life of my Lillian girl, but what choice do I have? I will find comfort in knowing that she is with the One who defines Love and look for the beauty in the pain.

We often feel like shattered dust and fragments, but He reveals to me how He can turn the pieces of life into a beautiful mosaic masterpiece.

If I will let Him.


So, I continue to look and listen and pray and read; even when it is hard, even when I don't want to and even when I don't see the point. 

We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.  

16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 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. (2 Corinthians 4:8-9, 16-18)