healing happens when we share our stories
It's tricky to decide what to do about Halloween. Throughout my childhood on Halloween, many of my friends dressed up as innocent things like princesses and superheroes and pretty much ignored the history. Some of my friends holed up in their homes, turned out all the lights and didn't really want to talk about why. My own family did a little bit of both.
I struggle with a quick-fused temper that sometimes spews onto the people I love most in this world. From talking with other moms, I've learned that I am not the only one that yells in anger say her kids. This is a very difficult thing for me to admit because it is so contrary to who I want to be as a mother. It hurts my heart more than almost anything else to see my beloved boys in pain, and there just aren't words to describe the kind of regret I feel when I know that I am the cause of that hurt. It’s also hard to admit because I haven’t found a fix-all solution; this is not a past-tense issue. I haven’t tied this up and thrown it behind me; there’s no pretty bow.
Grief has given me an acute awareness of the brevity of earthly life. Because of that knowledge, I try to treasure each moment and each relationship just a little more. The dark side of this reality is that I also face daily this feeling of dread, that the ones I love are not safe from death.
Death is terrible and sad on its own. Death rips and tears at hearts and it breaks people. It shatters worlds and families. When someone you love dies, it is never the right time, even in the case of people who've lived many years, because death is not ok. It's not the way God originally intended it. So why do we also kill each other? How can people be so cruel? How can our God, who is both completely sovereign and also completely powerful, allow evil that He hates?
Rayford Story 