After my daughter’s death, I was tempted to crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head and sleep my pain away.  Part of me wanted the world the stop. But I had two other young children to care for, and knew that option wouldn’t be good for them or me.  Yet, I was devastated.  How could I possibly go on?

Life didn’t make sense and I couldn’t focus.  I struggled with even basic tasks and everything was so out of control.   I didn’t know how to fix my pain or even how to fully embrace it, but I felt the need to “do” something.  So, in the middle of my chaos, I made a conscious decision to look for the good in life.  I’m not sure what prompted me to do this other than the fact that I had been part of a Bible study several months earlier that encouraged us to thank God for something every day.

With every ounce of energy I could muster, I began looking for something for which to thank God.  The first day, I struggled to find something.  Even though I was surrounded by loving people and was blessed in many ways, the fog was still very thick. As I pondered my new goal, I looked around the room and it occurred to me that I was encircled by flowers – every surface and corner burst forth with color and aroma.  And so, I thanked God for flowers.

I continued this ritual for several weeks until eventually, I had a tangible and lengthy list for which I was grateful.  Although this didn’t minimize the pain of my daughter’s passing, it gave me a fresh perspective.  It helped me to step towards healing instead of retreating.  It helped clear my thoughts.   But most of all, it began my journey of learning to live again.

I wanted to be whole again – not forgetting my daughter, but living with greater purpose as I honored her memory.  I wanted to experience life fully, without fear.  I didn’t want to sleep-walk my way through life.  I wanted to be present and engaged.  I wanted to enjoy my other children and to give them the gift of a healthy mother – in mind, body and spirit.

The journey was not easy or straight.  The path carried me over hills and potholes, around curves, and I even revisited a few stops along the way.  But ultimately, I reached the summit where I could see the beauty of our Creator.  I could look back and see the progress I’d made while looking forward to the adventure and fullness of life ahead.

As I continue the journey, Ashlynn’s memory lives on within me, inspiring me to embrace God’s plan. I am thankful for the hope He’s given me and for His grace and mercy as He holds my hand along the way.

Cindy Shufflebarger 2011