The loss of someone we dearly love changes our lives and takes us down a path we would never choose. On October 10, 2017, my 23-year-old son Chase was tragically killed in an accident. This brought my entire family, and me, to an unfamiliar place of enormous pain and devastating heartache.
The beach was always a place of serenity for me, but even more so since I lost my son. Three months into my grief journey, a kind friend offered me her beachfront cabin for ten days. It was during those days I began to process my heartbreaking loss. I spent most of that time reflecting on how on earth I would survive this tragedy. My faith was the foundation of my life, and I knew God was my only hope. Although my heart was completely shattered, the beach is where the Lord began to stitch it back together.
As the months went by, I tried to outrun my grief by staying busy. Almost instantly, I resumed my daily routine of work and ministry, and I attended conferences, retreats, missionary trips, grief groups, and spiritual study groups. I gleaned so much from each of them, but things were not well with my soul. I was still so broken. My greatest struggle was fear – fear that I would never recover from the loss of my son or ever be myself again.
But the Lord says he will never leave us or forsake us. On my lonely, dark, Damascus Road of grief, I finally hit rock bottom and surrendered my fear, pain, and shattered soul. God met me in a way that could only be him. Seriously, I went from fear to freedom, and for the first time since my son’s passing, I felt alive again. Through a season of what I call “Gardening with God,” I found my blooming tree, a life that was still full of butterflies, flowers, and astonishing growth toward a purpose beyond what I could ever imagine.
Barbara Bush said it best when she said, “The death of a child is so painful, both emotionally and spiritually, that I have truly wondered if my own heart and spirit would ever heal. I soon learned that I could help myself best by helping others.” Through my unmeasurable tears and work in the garden, God’s vision was beginning to reveal itself. That vison came to pass on October 10, 2021, four years to the day after the loss of my son. I shared a message called, “It is Well with My Soul” at the first Seabatical of Hope, a weekend retreat for mothers who have endured the loss of a child. The annual retreat is held at “The Sandy Orchid Lodge” in Crystal Beach, Texas, and it just so happens that from Sandy Orchid, I can see my friend’s beach cabin, the place where God began healing my heart.
On their Seabatical, the mothers walk through the doors on Friday with visible heaviness, and some may not even want to be there. As the weekend progresses, we all witness what God can only do. By Sunday, they all leave with a stitch or two in their wounded hearts, with the strength to work in the garden another day, and, most importantly, with hope.
By the grace of God, he makes broken hearts bloom again!
Cathy Taylor
The beach was always a place of serenity for me, but even more so since I lost my son. Three months into my grief journey, a kind friend offered me her beachfront cabin for ten days. It was during those days I began to process my heartbreaking loss. I spent most of that time reflecting on how on earth I would survive this tragedy. My faith was the foundation of my life, and I knew God was my only hope. Although my heart was completely shattered, the beach is where the Lord began to stitch it back together.
As the months went by, I tried to outrun my grief by staying busy. Almost instantly, I resumed my daily routine of work and ministry, and I attended conferences, retreats, missionary trips, grief groups, and spiritual study groups. I gleaned so much from each of them, but things were not well with my soul. I was still so broken. My greatest struggle was fear – fear that I would never recover from the loss of my son or ever be myself again.
But the Lord says he will never leave us or forsake us. On my lonely, dark, Damascus Road of grief, I finally hit rock bottom and surrendered my fear, pain, and shattered soul. God met me in a way that could only be him. Seriously, I went from fear to freedom, and for the first time since my son’s passing, I felt alive again. Through a season of what I call “Gardening with God,” I found my blooming tree, a life that was still full of butterflies, flowers, and astonishing growth toward a purpose beyond what I could ever imagine.
Barbara Bush said it best when she said, “The death of a child is so painful, both emotionally and spiritually, that I have truly wondered if my own heart and spirit would ever heal. I soon learned that I could help myself best by helping others.” Through my unmeasurable tears and work in the garden, God’s vision was beginning to reveal itself. That vison came to pass on October 10, 2021, four years to the day after the loss of my son. I shared a message called, “It is Well with My Soul” at the first Seabatical of Hope, a weekend retreat for mothers who have endured the loss of a child. The annual retreat is held at “The Sandy Orchid Lodge” in Crystal Beach, Texas, and it just so happens that from Sandy Orchid, I can see my friend’s beach cabin, the place where God began healing my heart.
On their Seabatical, the mothers walk through the doors on Friday with visible heaviness, and some may not even want to be there. As the weekend progresses, we all witness what God can only do. By Sunday, they all leave with a stitch or two in their wounded hearts, with the strength to work in the garden another day, and, most importantly, with hope.
By the grace of God, he makes broken hearts bloom again!
Cathy Taylor