Well, Monday I did what I have advised everyone not to do.  I stayed in bed all day.  I didn’t take a shower or change out of my pajamas.  I did get some laundry done with the help of my understanding husband.

It all started Sunday morning.  I went out to Amanda’s grave to change the flowers.  I had not changed them since Christmas and I knew I needed to get new ones out just in case someone decided to visit the grave.  I walked up thinking it was a matter of switching one set of flowers for another only to find the extra vases for her children and husband were broken.  Pieces all over the place.  I left because I didn’t want people arriving for service to see me so upset.

After a little while, I returned.  I picked up the broken pieces as best I could.  Saved the pieces the children had written on with chalk.  Crying and trying to hold myself together.  I kept thinking really Cindy, get it together.  This is just crazy.  Allowing broken pieces of pottery to upset you to this point.  My husband eventually came out looking for me.  As I showed him what happened, I could see the look on his face.  I realized, maybe I’m not as crazy as I think.  He held me as I fell to pieces on the backside of my car; didn’t want anyone to see me cry!

It seems like a small thing.  Vases broken.  I was mad and hurt and weeping all at the same time.  Over broken vases.

I pulled it together to eat lunch with my son and his children and then I went home and went to bed.  Stayed in bed or close to it the rest of the day.  Slept.  You would think I would have not been able to sleep Sunday night, but no, slept through the night.  Well, my normal sleeping through the night.  Got up Monday morning around 4, studied my Bible.  Went back to bed and stayed there most of the day.  Why?  Just because I didn’t have the will to do anything else.  I was angry with myself for giving up.  Kept telling myself to get dressed.  Tried to talk myself into going to work.  But, I just couldn’t.  I kept thinking about the grave.

The grave which holds my daughter body.  The small lonely looking place.  The place, for some reason, I am in charge of keeping up – just in case the kids go out to visit.  I know without a doubt she is in heaven, but it’s still her grave.  It’s a place with her name  – AMANDA PEAKE GLOVER.  Her date of birth, her date of death and a scripture.  “Her children rise up and call her blessed; Her husband also, and he praises her” Proverbs 31:28.  Her initials are on the permanent vase.  Normally also, the extra vases for the kids and her husband.

The vases were purchased from Hobby Lobby, so they were not expensive.  They were painted with chalkboard paint so the children could leave notes for their Momma.  Something they told me they wanted to do.  I have already ordered more permanent replacements.   I also ordered a footstone with Proverbs 31: 29 – “Many daughters have done well, but you excel them all.”  It’s for me and my husband.  It adds the fact that she was a daughter too.

A daughter.  Our daughter – her father and mother’s own flesh and blood.  That is what hit me so hard Sunday.  I’m her mother on my hands and knees picking up pieces of shattered ceramic and glass off of my daughters grave.  It shouldn’t be.

Things like a shattered vase hits us (those of us who have lost a child) like a ton of bricks sometimes.  It brings us to our knees.  It shuts us down for a time period.  No matter how much you tell yourself to get up, you just can’t.  Not today.  Not at this minute.  I knew I needed to get a shower.  I knew it would be best to get up and not give in to the temptation to quit.  I knew all the right things.  I just couldn’t.

During the times I was awake, I went through her life in my mind.  I am sure you have done the same thing.  She was born Amanda Hope Peake.  Slept through the night from the time she came home from the hospital.  Baby full of laughter.  Toddler so very stubborn.  She loved school, played school long before she went.  Made good grades, involved in plays and ball.  High school life was full.  Getting married to someone who made her beam.  Having children and excelled as a mother.  Then, the horrible day of the race.  More detailed than the above list, but you get the picture.  Special moments, special trips, special times all highlighted.

Then, I allowed my mind to drift to now.  The stress.  The loneliness.  The division.  The abandonment.  The frustration.  The silence.  The questions.  The unknowing.   The hurt.  The weakness.

I would like to say I had some revelation from God which got me out of bed Tuesday.  Some word or encouragement from a friend which got me dressed.  Nothing really, except one small fact.  I knew- I had to get up and get dressed.  If I didn’t, if I stayed home and in bed one more day, it wouldn’t change.  I would be there for a week, two weeks, a month.  I don’t want to live in bed.

One thing I know without a doubt, it would be a victory for Satan.  He would like nothing more than to take my faith, my witness, and my hope away.  He likes to use the little things to make us stumble.  Things we don’t know are coming.  Hit us out of the blue.

I know people who believe life is about thinking positively – positive thoughts will see you through.  After all, God wants good for you.  Nothing wrong with positive thoughts but positive thoughts will not always see you through – it’s not the complete story.  There was nothing positive about those vases laying in pieces on her grave.  Nope, not at all.  There has to be a mixture of consequences for your actions.  The consequences of laying in the bed forever are huge.  It’s not a price I am willing to pay.  In this day and time of all is good and fun and happy, we forget there is also seasons of life.  “A time to weep, And a time to laugh; A time to mourn, And a time to dance;” Ecc 3:4.

Fear of what would happen if I did something wrong kept me out of a lot of trouble growing up.  Momma didn’t play!  Fear of what the consequences could be, keep me going at times today.  I do not want my grandchildren to remember me as someone who gave up or gave in.  I want to them to remember their Grandma went on, even after the death of her child, their mother, their aunt.  I want them to remember – I have faith in God, I have hope because of God, I will see Amanda one day because I know Jesus.  I want them to know, Jesus is the only way to get through this.  His strength is what sustains me, I am very weak.  And yes, I want them to remember, there are consequences for even the smallest action – like deciding whether to get up and get dressed. God does not want us to merely feel good; He wants us to be good.  A witness for Him lost is a hard thing to recover.  Love also consist of breaking a leg to reset it.

‘“Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.” John 9:3

So then, those who suffer according to God’s will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good.  1 Peter 4:19

“See, I have refined you, though not as silver; I have tested you in the furnace of affliction.  For My own sake, for My own sake, I do this.” Isaiah 48:10 & 11a

It’s a hard pill to swallow.  It’s truth.  I have to continue, I can not give up and I can not give in.  The consequences are too great to do otherwise.  I want everyone to know, Jesus gives me strength.  I want the works of God displayed in me.  I have faith in the faithful Creator.  I want to continue to do good.  I want to be a good witness for Him in this world.  After all, He is the only One who picks up the pieces of my life and creates a new creation.

Love, hugs and prayers – Manda’s Mom #APG

9 thoughts on “Consequences

  1. Very well said. Every day I fight the urge to give up. Losing my Andy on a beautiful, warm Saturday afternoon late in November. How can that be? One last outing to a lake he loved, to take some still pictures of the calm on the water. How can this be? But it can and it does. On a warm November day before the winter sets in he was gone in the depths of the ice cold water that was so calm and friendly. How I wished it had been a typical November day in Minnesota. Two days after Thanksgiving, with the weather cold and hustle and bustle to and from stores Christmas shopping. My Andy wouldn’t have gone out for one last nice day til spring….. if only the weather had been normal. I have lost my oldest son, he left behind his mom, his dad and two brothers. But he left with a wife, a little boy and little girl and a baby boy on the way. You can be mad at God for this tragic, horrifying accident and believe me I was. But I know my angel is in Heaven and being well taken care of. But the hurt and pain and loss we feel on earth brings days that are so filled with tears and loss it is hard to not want to get up some days. My strength comes from God and my son, so that I can be there for all the family and my grandkids. To continue to share the love their daddy had for them and keep his memory alive. You are so loved, Andy John…. Almost 3 months have gone by….how hard it can be. Love, Mom


  2. Sorry for your pain, thank you for sharing. My thoughts and prayers are wth you always. Your Faith is strong and I have
    Witnessed that for years. Sometimes we have to replenish our emotional tank so if staying in pjs for a day or two gives you some much needed time by all means don’t feel bad about that. Love you


  3. This brought tears to my eyes. My heart breaks for you as I know how deeply you loved Amanda. Your witness, strength and perseverance is an inspiration. Your testimony brings help and insight to so many. I love you and continue to pray for you and your family.


  4. Thanks for sharing your heart. I keep thinking though that it was good you had the option to stay in bed rather than having to be at a workplace. It’s so difficult to concentrate and be productive at work while experiencing so much grief. And employers don’t understand.


  5. I thought I was alone in these feelings and things with meaning and sleeping staying in bed. I cannot even bring myself to wash the dishes and it has been three and a half years. Holly Anne was so special and very protective of me. I was recently directly to my face told when I am around a certain group of people they do not want to ever hear my children’s names AGAIN!!! I am not allowed to cry ask for prayer or hug. I was told Holly Anne deserved to die!!!! I feel like a robot around these people what do I do when I have no choice but tobe around these people? I truly mean no choice! Unfortunately I am not able to give details concerning this group or talk openly about the situation.


    1. I am not sure why you have to be around these people but they are horrible. I wish I could hug you. I have been talked to very ugly myself and so have many other mothers. People say horrible things. A parent should never have to bury a child. Some how you are going to have to find the strength to get up and get dressed. Conquer one thing at a time. Holly Anne would never want you to give up. It’s the hardest thing to do in the world. Know this, you are not alone! Love, hugs, and prayers – Manda’s Mom


  6. And so I thought I had it all together, but today I too am spending the day in bed, crying all day. Missing my son Josh. He passed away 9-2-15. I feel like it happened yesterday. I just want everything to stop. I’ve been to doctors, therapist, they all just look at you confused and I leave feeling insulted. So I came to this site where someone may truly understand. I’m sorry for your loss and I can honestly say I too do understand.


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