“I like your tattoo,” I said to my server as I tried to hide myself from the other restaurant patrons. With my back to the rest of the world, I was seated at a corner table, my Bible and journal in hand. Grungy clothes. No makeup. I prayed that no one would notice me. 

Only weeks after the loss of my five-year-old son, I found myself in such an uncomfortable season of life. This season of raw grief. I was struggling to make it. Shattered and trying to piece what little I could back together. My new reality was pain. Not only did I lose my sweet son, I lost a huge piece of my identity and my purpose. It seemed as though life halted. Everything in my life changed. Absolutely everything. My eyes had been opened to the harsh new world of grief. But, my eyes had been opened to something else as well. 

Other people.

With an abrupt halt to my routine, I found myself with a lofty amount of free time. My life no longer filled with busyness, I slowed down. Way down. And that enabled me to notice people.

 I began to wonder about their stories. Before, I had been so busy with my own agendas or concerns that I hadn’t taken the time to ever see those around me. I began to truly see people, to wonder about their stories, their struggles, their dreams. I wondered about their salvation and I genuinely began to care about these people who I had never met or would possibly never see again.

“I like your tattoo,” I said. My sweet server smiled and shared with me the meaning behind it. They were footprints. It reminded her the Lord had carried her through the hard times. That she would never be alone. I shared about our loss of Sawyer and how the Lord was sustaining us. We talked about her daughter, her life, and her faith. I listened and I had compassion.

After breakfast, I walked over to Hobby Lobby and saw two ladies at the fabric counter. They were discussing whether or not they were going to spend the money on a particular devotional. I chimed in, “I love that one. It’s really great. I recently lost my son in a tragic accident and it has really blessed my heart.” We began to share our stories. One of the ladies had also lost her son in a tragic accident. We shared of the Lord’s faithfulness. Again, the Lord gave me compassion and a genuine concern for these ladies. 

I was learning something: when I slowed down, I was able to truly see people around me.

 A couple of weeks later, I found myself attending a Bible study in my hometown. The study was on the person of Jesus and we went over verse after verse in the Bible reading about how Jesus saw, he had compassion, and then, He acted. (Matt. 14:14, Matt. 9:36, Mark 6:34)

Jesus saw. He cast his eyes on others. 

How can we make a diligent effort to see people? By slowing down our schedules and not being so fixated on ourselves or our circumstances. When we take the focus off of us, then we can begin to look at other things, like the people around us. 

Jesus had compassion. He didn’t just see people and keep going. He didn’t brush them off or think, “Well, they probably got themselves into that mess. They’ll figure a way to get out.” No. Jesus had compassion. 

When we see others, are we engaging our hearts, pausing, and putting ourselves in their shoes? Are we listening, caring, and offering compassion? Or are we just seeing them and moving on? Maybe we’re taking action, but are we doing it with compassion? Or are we just trying to make the problem go away? Are we trying to “fix” things or do we care about heart of the person?

Jesus took action. Jesus didn’t leave the person hanging. No, AFTER he saw, AFTER he had compassion, THEN he acted. He will always meet our needs, but He wants us to know that He cares about our hearts, as well. In fact, He is more concerned with our hearts than anything else, because that is what is eternal. 

Too often, I am guilty of trying to rush through life and accomplish everything on my to-do list. When I run across people and their struggles, I’m often tempted to address their needs before truly seeing them. I’m tempted to “fix it” for them before pausing, before listening and before having compassion. I want to do a better job modeling my Savior. How about you?

Originally published on the author’s blog

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Summer Gordon

Born and raised in the sunshine state, Summer is a wife, mother, author and speaker whose passion is to help others fix their eyes on the eternal by looking beyond life’s circumstances. Summer and her husband, Reppard, are co-writing their first book, Walking Two Worlds, which was birthed out of the tragic loss of their five-year-old son. Most days, Summer can be found homeschooling her children and instructing infants in aquatic self-rescue skills. She enjoys decorating on a budget, and Reppard, because of his banking expertise, frequently reminds her to stay on that budget. 

My Baby Was Stillborn, But Still Born

In: Child Loss, Grief
My Baby Was Stillborn, But Still Born www.herviewfromhome.com

My baby was stillborn, but still born. In a cool white hospital room where so many had been born before. My body trembled and shook as his body worked its way out of my womb and into the hands of a doctor. He was void of breath, of sound, of movement, but he was still born. My baby was stillborn, but still lived. In the darkness of my womb. The outline of his body was visible against the darkness of the screen, his presence undeniable. The sound of his heartbeat drowned out the sound of mine as I watched his...

Keep Reading

I Am Not My Child’s Death

In: Cancer, Child Loss, Faith, Grief
I Am Not My Child's Death www.herviewfromhome.com

We are NOT what has happened to us or what this world says we are. That is not what defines us. While we are grieving parents, that is not what our whole story has to be about. Although, at times, we feel that our story is over. We ask, how do we go on and live full lives without our sweet Sophie with us? I’m still not 100 percent sure I know the answer to that. BUT the Lord says I am beloved. I am redeemed and accepted. I am holy and chosen. I am righteous and complete. I am...

Keep Reading

The Hardest Moments After Losing a Child

In: Child Loss, Grief, Motherhood
The Hardest Moments After Losing a Child www.herviewfromhome.com

Within the first three months following the death of my newborn daughter, I participated in one baby shower, attended two first birthday parties, had multiple infants in and around my home, and watched not one, not two, but five of my closest friends take happy, healthy babies home from the hospital. And in the midst of my own life-altering experience, I purchased, wrapped, and mailed a gift to every one of those new babies, because they deserved one. In the days and months after my daughter died, I didn’t run away or hide from babies at all. And this seemed...

Keep Reading

6 Commitments I Made to Myself After Child Loss

In: Child Loss, Grief, Kids, Motherhood
6 Commitments I Made to Myself After Child Loss www.herviewfromhome.com

Following the death of our infant daughter, I found myself facing an opportunity to activate the immense power of personal choice. Time and time again. Hour after hour, day after day. It felt as if every moment that passed provided me with a choice: to let the grief consume me, or not. In the midst of the most emotionally complex experience of my life, my ability to survive felt as simple as that. Will grief consume me, or not? Once I began believing that Olivia had lived out her life’s plan completely—that she had come, she had loved, she had...

Keep Reading

To the Moms and Dads Who Suffer Loss: You Are Not Alone

In: Child Loss, Grief, Infertility, Motherhood
To the Moms and Dads Who Suffer Loss: You Are Not Alone www.herviewfromhome.com

You are walking the hardest path anyone will ever walk—living this life without your children. Your losses have come in many shapes and sizes. You’ve lost tiny heartbeats early in the womb. You’ve screamed and sobbed through labor to deliver a silent but perfect little bundle. You’ve held a fragile infant for hours, days, weeks, or months, only to give him back to Heaven. You’ve watched your little one grow into a curious toddler and then held her a final time as disease or an accident took her away. You’ve lived a full childhood with your baby and even watched...

Keep Reading

A Letter to My Mama, From Your Baby in Heaven

In: Child Loss, Faith, Grief, Miscarriage
A Letter to My Mama, From Your Baby in Heaven www.herviewfromhome.com

Dear Mama, I know you miss me and wish you could watch me grow up. But instead, you sit in that rocking chair, tears streaming down your face, arms wrapped around the blanket that was supposed to be mine. I see you crying, Mama, wishing you could hold me. Wishing you could look into my eyes. Wishing you could hear me cry or call you “Mama”. I want you to know Jesus rocks me to sleep every night and while He does it, He tells me all about you. I know tulips are your favorite flower and that every spring...

Keep Reading

God Actually Does Give Us More Than We Can Handle

In: Child Loss, Faith, Grief
God Actually Does Give Us More Than We Can Handle www.herviewfromhome.com

I used to be someone who said, “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.” That was before I had faced any hardships in my life. I didn’t know who God truly is. When people are going through something hard and decide to share it, it makes people uncomfortable. It’s hard to watch others who are hurting, and it’s hard not knowing how to help when it’s someone you love. “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle” is a very well-meaning encouragement that I know is meant in love. I’ve said it before! But it’s not really...

Keep Reading

Why I Got a Tattoo With My Teenage Daughters

In: Child Loss, Grown Children, Motherhood, Teen
Why I Got a Tattoo With My Teenage Daughters www.herviewfromhome.com

“We should get a tattoo, Mom.” I laughed. I knew it was just my younger daughter, Sarah’s way of getting herself a tattoo—to go along with her nose ring, and six ear piercings. She didn’t really want me to get one. Did she? “Truth!” My oldest, more conservative daughter, Elle, chimed in. “We should all go.” What? Home from college just five minutes, maybe she was bored. I heard tattoos really hurt and she hates pain, like I do. I glared at my two daughters, now 17 and 19. They can read my mind. I knew it! There was something...

Keep Reading

I’m Not Sure How Long I’ll Need an Antidepressant to Feel Normal…and That’s OK

In: Cancer, Child Loss, Grief, Mental Health
I'm Not Sure How Long I'll Need an Antidepressant to Feel Normal...and That's OK www.herviewfromhome.com

I tried to wean off of Zoloft and couldn’t. And that’s OK. I had never really been aware of the world of antidepressants. My life has been relatively uneventful—with the normal ups and downs that most of us go through. I knew people on medication for depression but never understood. How can you be THAT sad that you can’t just be positive and make the best of your circumstances? How can someone be THAT unhappy ALL the time to need medication? I didn’t get it. I felt bad for people going through it. Then my 2-year-old was diagnosed with Stage...

Keep Reading

To the Young Warriors Fighting Cancer, You Are Superheroes

In: Cancer, Child, Child Loss, Health
To the Young Warriors Fighting Cancer, You Are Superheroes www.herviewfromhome.com

Most people never get to meet their heroes. I have, in fact—I have met many heroes. These heroes didn’t set out for greatness; they fell victim to a terrible disease and faced it with courage, might and bravery like I have never seen before. And when we talk about this type of battle, there is no such thing as losing. whether the battle ended in death, life, or debility, each of these heroes defeated. My heroes are the innocent children who battle cancer. I high-fived, hugged, wept over, laughed and played with my heroes for 10 years as a nurse. And you better believe I...

Keep Reading