Rare Bird Quotes

“understand; we want to know why. But we don’t want people coming to conclusions for us, feeding us neat little answers of what God’s will is and how His mind and heart work. No thank you. I guess the only thing that is certain to me now is that the small God I followed before, the one I must secretly have believed would spare my family pain if I just didn’t ask for too much or set my sights too high, is somehow not big enough to carry me now. That little God isn’t the one who comforts me when I despair. No, it’s a big God, whose loving voice reminds me of my mother’s, who gently whispers to me, “I know, Anna. I know, honey. I know.”
― Anna Whiston-Donaldson, Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love

“understand; we want to know why. But we don’t want people coming to conclusions for us, feeding us neat little answers of what God’s will is and how His mind and heart work. No thank you. I”
― Anna Whiston-Donaldson, Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love

“As Margaret ages past Jack, I believe he will remain her older brother, looking out for her and cheering her on as he always did. He is not as far away as he may seem. My prayer for Margaret is that as she grows older, she’ll remember that the same God who gave her the uncanny knowledge that Jack would die, and who sent angels to get her away from the creek, is always with her, and that she can do great things with the strength He gives her. As her special Bible verse says, “You are mine.”
― Anna Whiston-Donaldson, Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love

“That our marriage has survived, and will continue to survive such devastation, feels to me like something of a miracle, and I don’t take it for granted. Each day is a new opportunity to show each other grace.”
― Anna Whiston-Donaldson, Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love

“I didn’t want to replace that old phone because of the comfort it brought us on the night Jack died and several key times since, but it wasn’t the phone that was so special anyway; it was the message that nothing could separate us from God’s love, not even raging water, death, or grief.”
― Anna Whiston-Donaldson, Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love

“I wonder, given the way he is still touching people’s lives, even one year after his death, if Jack has become a missionary without ever having to say a word.”
― Anna Whiston-Donaldson, Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love

“I’m not sure how sharing the broken, hurting pieces of our lives helps us, but it does. Rather than wallowing in despair, this group of scrappy women cheers each other on, determined to find a way to live the lives we have now. And in sharing our loss, we somehow gain. That is the mystery of a community of grievers.”
― Anna Whiston-Donaldson, Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love

“Grievers I've come across function within society, and most days it appears pretty seamless. We volunteer at church. We go to school plays. We shop. We cheer from the sidelines. We try to blend in. We smile. We look normal. We need people to feel okay being open and natural around us, so as not to drive us even further apart from the world. We are not from another planet, but it feels that way, so far removed is our experience from those around us.
There is a constant undercurrent of loss, a schism in our brains, which we gradually learn to adapt to, but is ever present. It's as if our brains are operating on two separate tracks. One is the here and now. The second is the parallel track of what could or should have been yet will not be. Most days I can keep the second track hidden. Other times, I haven't got a prayer.”
― Anna Whiston-Donaldson, Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love