Tag Archives: family

Life, Loss, And Human Connection


We all experience loss in varying degrees throughout our lives.  Sometimes we lose a person.  Sometimes it is someone of remarkable significance to our lives.  Sometimes we lose our idea of a person.  Sometimes we lose someone while they are still living.  Sometimes we lose a person before they have a chance to be born.  Sometimes death suddenly snatches someone from our grasp.

Sometimes we lose something.  Something truly meaningful to us- a job, a relationship, a marriage, a family, a home.  We may lose our faith in ourselves or our confidence in others.  We may lose our affection for someone.  Someone may lose fondness for us.  Sometimes we lose our possessions, our good health, an opportunity, or a skill.  Sometimes we grieve the loss of another’s good opinion, a phase of life, or a particular situation.  We may lose our dignity to abuse.  Sometimes, in the wake of trauma, a piece of our history is lost to us.  In reaction to grief, we may lose a part of ourselves.

No matter.  Loss is loss.  And in some form, each and every loss affects us.  Our losses affect us at differing levels, on any given day, for as long as we live.  This is true whether or not we can identify the trouble or admit to it.

Sometimes the pain surrounding our loss is evident to all.  It’s conspicuous and loud- maybe even obnoxious.  Sometimes our grief is quiet and obvious to few.  Sometimes we suffer in silence.  Other times we let it all hang out.  But we all suffer.  No one makes this journey without experiencing loss- without grief, nor without the change that loss entails.

We are in this life together- inextricably intertwined- if only in our minds, our memories.  Our journey’s are our own; and yet we pass one another, we bump into one another, converge at various points along the road.  We’re often gathered at intersections or stopped together in traffic.  Sometimes we are involved in the parade and other times we’re held up by it.  Sometimes we are forced to view an accident.  Sometimes we find ourselves in the middle of the wreck.  We may realize we instigated a pile-up.  We can accept the truth of our relatedness or not.  We can like it or not, we can cooperate with healing or not, but nothing can alter the fact of our wondrous interconnectedness.

The best that we can do is to be patient with one another and ourselves, and to be kind.  We can be committed to honesty, to listening, and to being present.  We can own our mistakes- time and again if necessary.  We can seek forgiveness and we can be forgiving.  We can offer grace- allowing new opportunities for growth.  In Christ, we can practice genuine humility and real compassion.  In Him, we can love in the truest sense.

Copyright 2024.   L.L. Shelton.

An Open Letter Regarding: HR 3755

October 11, 2021

Dear Ladies and Gentlemen,

I believe our situation in America (and elsewhere) is grim.  It is apparent to me that we are likely faced with a choice between evils; communism and fascism, though in the face of staggering evidence neither major party seems willing to own it.  We seem to have become a nation of self-serving extremists.  Though I realize there have been plots and conspiracies on every side, I know we have all played our part in bringing about this present day.

I do not believe we are a representative republic any longer, nor do I believe we are becoming a socialist-capitalist democracy.  I believe we are facing an absolutely authoritative  government in the not-so-distant future.  Our sins have grieved the heart of God and have created a sense of corporate fear.  We beg for our safety with little consideration for the freedom to do good that we are relinquishing.  If I lend my support to a particular candidate or party, it is likely because that one is less apt to bring harm, rather than the one from whom I expect benefit.

There is no greater evidence of our evils as a nation than the passage by the United States congress of the bill numbered 3755 and titled, The Women’s Health Protection Act.  The  HR bill passed by a count of 217 to 207, and 216 of those who voted to pass the bill are members of the Democratic Party.  This bill codifies Roe vs. Wade into permanent federal law and strikes down any restrictions on abortion at the state level.  It dismisses the need for parental consent in the case of a minor, dismisses the need for informed consent, allows for the abortion procedure in the case of any or no reason up to the moment of the baby’s birth, and repeals The Hyde Amendment.  Furthermore, HR 3755 eliminates conscience protection for medical professionals electing not to perform abortions or to refer patients to other professionals for abortions.  If the Democratic majority senate passes this bill, surely we will deserve to lose  autonomy over our own bodies, but I hope and pray for the unmerited mercy of God toward us.  Please call your state senators at 202-224-2131 and ask them to vote against this horrific bill!

My heart breaks for America, land that I do love, and at this juncture in her history, I wish to confirm publicly my own political position for the sake of posterity and as a reference during the days of greater division and probable unification around a totalitarian regime:

  1. I am first and foremost a Bible-believing Christian, saved by the grace of God in Christ.  Scripture is my rule for Truth.
  2. I am an American citizen and I pledge my allegiance to her, secondary to GOD alone.
  3. I am a citizen of the great state of Tennessee, and pledge my allegiance to her, secondary to God alone.
  4. Should it become impossible to remain loyal to both America and Tennessee, I will remain faithful to God and His Truth,  in the hopes that there my allegiance will be decided for me.
  5. Through my first allegiance, my loyalty to family remains secure.
  6. I am committed to resisting evil and will do so by       the two means allowed for in Scripture:  Resist the evil and/or flee from it.

I am grateful to you, the reader, for allowing me this brief liberation of conscience.

Sincerely,

L.L. Shelton

Copyright 2021.    L.L. Shelton.

Wishing and Hoping

(A letter to one of special relation)

I wish that we had known one another when you were not yet so low on the resources required to actively love the silly slip of a hurting displaced young woman, full of false bravado, to whom your son first introduced you.

I wish that we had known one another before the world had whipped you into submission.

I wish I could have known you when you could focus on the hope in a child’s laughter for more than an instant.

I wish I could have known you in the long ago spring, when you were excited about the baby chicks from Sears and Roebuck that would soon arrive in the mail and the other things that would be coming as a result.

I wish I could have known you before the ordinary disappointments of life with their inevitable pain had combined with the traumatic stress unique to your own circumstance to bring you so far down…

And yet I remember…

I remember moments, however fleeting, when you threw out a witty one-liner or gave an account of something truly humorous, and together we laughed so hard we nearly cried.

I remember occasions when we witnessed a heart-touching scene on the silver screen and you turned to me with tears in your eyes to see the same mist in mine and we acknowledged one another in quiet understanding.

I remember moments when you confided in me something sorrowful and allowed me for a brief time to be some solace to you.

I remember how I admired who you must have once been when I learned of some of the hardships of the child of a south Alabama sharecropper’s daughter; when I discovered that you had been truly grateful for school and had been a good student, and that following your high school graduation you had unflinchingly boarded a bus for the city with a watch and a few dollars to enter nursing school and make your own way in the world.

I remember how it tickled me when you so candidly related the story of your first date with your eventual husband, when you told how you asked him to let you out at a stranger’s doorstep pretending all the while it was your own, as you were sure he would not ask you out on a second date if he saw your actual humble dwelling; and how you, with even greater transparency, related being finally engaged and parking with your intended in front of the imposing sculpture of “Vulcan, The God of Fire.”

I remember learning of how you and your beau married before he finished school and so you worked while he completed his education, and I thought it was a courageous move, especially for the time.

I remember the common ground that we easily shared as “bargain hunters,” and the genuine excitement with which you would relate the tale of a particularly exciting find.

I remember how you appreciated showing me any new acquisitions, great or small, around the home you were continually building on the hill; how once as we stood in front of a lovely picture of an idyllic vista you said, almost as though speaking to yourself, “I’d love to go there someday,” and I was most amused as the picture was of nowhere specific- and then how one day, when your namesake was five, she stopped in front of a similar rendering and dreamily stated the very same.  In that moment, it occurred to me again that we live on- sometimes in spite of our best efforts to do otherwise.

I am often reminded of a particular gem in my back pocket, where I compliantly placed many at your instruction.  Some have proved most useful, and I thank you for them.

And yes, sadly I remember how you repeated to me several stories of traumatic memory over the years, the same recollections again and again, and I remember my ignorance.

I remember realizing your turmoil was great, yet the only help I could think to give was to remind you of Christ, of Scripture, and of the need for surrender and prayer.  (All wonderful and true things, but a man who is bleeding to death can rarely focus on them before his wounds are properly addressed.)

I remember the many things that clearly indicate that you were suffering emotionally, uniquely and intensely, and that you were in need of greater understanding than I was able to give to you then.

I hope that somehow in your life now you can know that I grieve for you, and that I recognize how very much was lost to all of us.

I hope that somehow in your life now, you can realize that you were a large part of my motivation to seek the particular education I did, allowing me to practice as a counselor to others who are emotionally damaged, and I hope that it makes you glad.

And I hope somewhere, somehow, you know I have forgiven you your harsh moments, as I hope you have forgiven my offenses, and I want you to know that I loved you and I still do.

Copyright 2017.  L.L.  Shelton.