Lisa Wessel

Grief, Grace & Gratitude

This blog is all about loving life after loss. Grief is woven into my soul, but grace says it’s a thread in the pattern, not the entire tapestry. For that, I stand in gratitude.

Grief, Grace & Gratitude
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One Day Closer

Bereaved Parents, Grace, Grief
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Ten years. 120 months. 520 weeks. 3,650 days. 87,600 hours. 5,256,000 minutes. A decade. By anyone’s standards, a significant length of time. Ten years ago today, my son Will was killed in an accident. For those grieving the death of a child, time is a beguiling enemy. When the loss…

Ten Steps to Writing a Press Release

Doubly Dead, Marketing, Writing
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Years of self-doubt and sweating in front of a computer screen have culminated in the realization of a lifelong dream. You’re holding your published book in your hands. Now, how to get it into the hands of readers? The introvert population within the writing tribe trembles at the thought of…

Will and Billy

Grace
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My son got to meet Billy Graham today. February 21st will be remembered by the world as the day the charismatic evangelist passed away. But February 21st was already a watershed day in my life. It’s the day my child died. He had eighty-four less years on earth than the…

Personal and Precise: The Prayers God Loves to Hear

Answered Prayer
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My two deepest desires stared up at me from the words of Psalm 62: 9-11.      Man as such is smoke, woman as such, a mirage. Put them together, they’re nothing; two times nothing is nothing. And a windfall, if it comes – don’t make too much of it.…

Grief, Grace, and Goats

Goats, Grace, Grief
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I entered the workroom at school, relieved to find it empty. Grateful for the quiet, I fed subtraction practice pages into the copy machine. My second graders needed extra practice with two-digit regrouping problems, and I needed a moment of solitude. At the low-income school where I’d spent the last…

When Jesus Came to the Comic Book Store

Bereaved Parents, Grace, Grief
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I followed my fourteen year-old into Second Chance Books and Comics. The twenty-five dollars burning a hole in his pocket trumped any concerns about the seedy strip mall. He’d discovered the comic book store on one of his dad’s weekends, and couldn’t wait to initiate me into the thrill of…
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