Amanda-Lee Pitzer

Amanda-Lee is a self-proclaimed "master of starting over" and always believes that restoration will come—even when it arrives in a package that was unexpected. After becoming widowed at 36, she found herself at a crossroads of what life did look like and what life should look like. She began to rebuild her life as she faced raising her two boys alone, only to discover that God had been answering the prayers she had been praying for years when he brought her the love of her life and his daughter, creating a beautiful picture of restoration. She found a new purpose in this season and obtained her Doctor of Educational Psychology with a focus on trauma studies so she could support others as they worked through unexpected situations and rediscovered their own self-worth and purpose. She is currently writing her first book, "The Relieved Widow," in order to help others grapple with the stigma of suicide loss. You can follow her on IG and Facebook @therelievedwidow.

5 Ways My Blended Family Learned to Adapt

5 Ways My Blended Family Learned to Adapt

“So … I’m going to need to wear those pants of yours tomorrow.” “Um, that doesn’t sound like asking,” her dad interjects. I’m just sitting there, as my stepdaughter and I continue to figure out this whole stepparenting thing. I want to be her cool BFF that she feels comfortable sharing things with … even if that means she shares my closet. I don’t want to correct her when she’s wrong. I’m afraid to speak up, even when I’m frustrated when I have to go hunt my things down in her room (and while I do so I hear my own mother’s voice, “Amanda-Lee, I don’t care if you use my stuff but PUT. IT. BACK!”) Or, as I step in and […]

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suicide isn't easily understood but you need to know this

Suicide Isn’t Easily Understood, But You Need to Know This

“Wow. I just gotta say, suicide is such a selfish decision. I can’t believe anyone would do that to someone else.” I stood there in shock. I don’t know why—she said the same thing I have said dozens of times in the past. But this time I heard those words from a different point of view. I understand suicide so much differently than I did just a few years ago. Becoming a widow due to suicide changes you; it carries so much guilt and shame, and it is suffocating. However, in time, as I stood back and picked through the wreckage, I began to find little puzzle pieces scattered about. Sometimes, those pieces were only parts of pieces, charred as my world

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Why Am I Going to Church? How I Lifted My Filter and Found Pure Motives

As I planned my weekend, I knew going to church Sunday just wasn’t in the cards. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always faithfully gone to church, but I certainly wasn’t the “there every time the doors are open” type. When I came to this realization, I felt a twinge of worry. You see, I’ve been conditioned to believe that a “good Christian” doesn’t miss a Sunday. Good Christians go no matter what. If you don’t go to church … well, you must not be walking right with the Lord. By People Pleasing, I Felt So Alone This community that I’ve been deeply entrenched in for years has dictated to me a laundry list of things I must do or

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God showed up when i was tired of waiting

God Showed up When I Was Tired of Waiting

I remember those special holidays on Sunday mornings as a little girl when my family got extra dressed up. My dad pulled my brother and I outside and grabbed his camera to snap photos of us, super thrilled, in front of our Rose of Sharon bush. I was not thrilled by my frilly dress, curly hair, or my brother’s attitude. After the photos, we’d head off to church. My mom was so proud of that bush, along with many of her prized rose bushes. She was the only one in the family with a green thumb. She tried to teach me the proper method to preening her roses or trimming back the Rose of Sharon, which grew well over eight feet tall,

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After Losing My Husband To Suicide, One Good Man Restored Our Family

(Listen to the audio version of this article here.) “I miss Daddy.” When I hear those words, I feel like someone took my heart and tossed it on the floor. Like a glass falling onto tile, my heart shatters into a million pieces. My big, brave 10-year-old, who has always been very mature for his age, turns back into a little boy that just wants his daddy back. I try so hard to hold the tears back as I watch his fall onto his cheeks. He has told me on more than one occasion that I’m not allowed to cry in front of him. It’s the night before a brand new school year, and my normally confident boy is a bundle of

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My Husband Fought for His Nation, but Lost a Battle at Home

My Husband Fought for His Nation, But Lost a Battle at Home

My family and I love going to Washington D.C. I’ve gone countless times since I was a kid, especially because my dad did so much work there when I was younger. This past October, my husband and I took a trip to D.C. sans-kids. It was probably the best trip we’ve had since our honeymoon. He had this obsession with John F. Kennedy’s assassination, so we decided to map out all the homes in Georgetown connected to the family. Of course, the closet realtor in me also had Zillow pulled up as I wanted to know how much these historic homes went for—and what they looked like inside. When we went to see the Declaration of Independence (something he had never seen),

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