“Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself. Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others.” Phil 2:3-4

Remember when our children were young and we had a “teachable moment?” There are hundreds of these that occur when raising our children.

It’s the neighbor’s broken window and a realization that the person responsible for the action is also responsible for the consequences.

It’s the realization by a child that life does not go on forever.

It’s the day our child recognizes that being “part of the crowd” is not always a good thing.

As parents we usually sit back and either rejoice over that “lightbulb” moment or share the sadness of the tougher lessons. But what about the teachable moments in reverse? What about the life lessons our children teach us? Can our children teach us about life? About death? About sacrifice and compassion? Of course they can.

My son Rhys taught me a lesson about a life well lived. I didn’t get a chance to thank him for that but what a teachable moment it has been (and continues to be). He taught me that it is not the amount of time you have, the stuff you have, the number of times you messed up, the job you had, etc. Ultimately, a life well lived is one that leaves something here for the rest of us. It’s a lesson that teaches us that humility, service, compassion, truth, love, and the gift of a Savior define a life well lived. Goodness wins and God is glorified in that life.

That, my friends, is the ultimate in teachable moments. And my child taught me that.

I just keep expecting to hear Rhys’ voice as he comes dashing in the door with a Rockstar in his hand: “Mom, can you…”
Can we ever answer their questions again? Can we ever be the same again?

The answer of course, is no. Nothing will ever be the same for us since the loss of our heroes. But here is where God’s message is perfectly clear. We are daily re-made, inching ever closer to the creation that the Father desires us to be. We are the work of His hand. (more…)

As the third year anniversary of Rhys’ death approaches, I reflect on the year as all of us do; mostly trying to see if we’ve made any difference in the world. We hear and read daily about all kinds of horrible things that happen in the world. We lament the path our country is taking and we wonder what comes next.

We measure the time in intervals since Rhys’ death, an artificial time line that creeps into everything we do. It is easy to get discouraged when the year ends and still the world trudges on a path of fear, hatred, and uncertainty. What are we doing? Where are we going? Can anyone make a difference? (more…)

The true adventures in my life have involved people, not just any people, but the people that leave lasting impressions.  You may never even meet some of them a second time, but you always remember them.  Michael and I met a wonderful couple, Paul and Jan, from England when we were on vacation last fall.  They are an amazing couple and the three days that we combined our journeys were some of the most fun we’ve had.  We trust that we will see them again, but even if we didn’t we would always remember them.

A journey through grief is also a kind of adventure and the people you meet on this journey are truly the kind of people you will remember forever.  In this journey some of the human race’s most endearing, gracious, and merciful qualities become real.  We have met amazing people on the journey through the aftermath of Rhys’ death. (more…)

I did it again. I just bought something and thought to myself, “Rhys would have thought this was pretty cool.” It’s very strange how we continue to ponder what our sons (or daughters) would think about some benign action that we take as we move through our lives without them. I hear a song, or see something in a store, or make a purchase, or see something in his daughter about which I think Rhys would really have something to say. Then I pause and think to myself, “I guess I’ll never know about that.”

What’s odd is that our son is stuck at that one age. We knew what he would think about all kinds of things at that age. But our minds play tricks on us. We see Rhys’ friends making grown-up adult decisions and having adult opinions about everything. We always wonder what Rhys’ opinions would have become. And that my friends, is the saddest part. What would our son have become? What would we be talking about on a Saturday afternoon? Would we have feared multiple deployments? Would we talk about the economy? Kids? Parenting? (more…)