Loss. I've had my share over the years.
Two weeks after I graduated from High School, my father died, I was 17. In 1984, just after my 31st birthday, my mother died . I was 38 when I learned I had diabetes. I began a "rest of my life" battle with skin cancer in 1996, at age 43. Disappointment...oh my, where do I start. Failure--several crushing instances. Unrealized dreams, of course.
My story isn't unique. It's called, "being human." Loss is just a part of the "living experience." Life is hard, and, can be very harsh--and it's not fair. Loss, though we all face it, is not simply a one size fits all process. For some, loss means never experiencing "what could have been." For others it's remembering "what was." For all of us it's losing people we love, to death. Life's "Harsh passages" include broken relationships, disease, tragic accidents, children "lost" in adolescence and never able to move on to productive adult lives, addiction, betrayal, unfaithful spouses and/or friends...have I described your "loss-story" yet?
Recently, an extended family member, and friend, facing a number of very difficult circumstances posted a comment about loss, she concluded, "Easy to be philiosophical...easy to be grateful too." As I paused to reflect on her words, I was struck by this profound insight.
"Easy to be grateful too..." Really? We can't, generally, control loss. Bad things happen to good (and bad) people. We can, however, control our attitude and our response to loss. We can ask "why me?" or we can declare "why NOT me!" That's the "philosophical" part.
The "grateful" part comes when, our pain notwithstanding, we aren't swallowed by bitterness; through the darkness of the moment, we still see the sunshine we've experienced over the years--as well as the expectation that the sun will shine again. Loss frames our perspective. It reminds us of the providence of God and the blessings we enjoy and have enjoyed through the ebb and flow of life. It's ironic, loss and gratitude are two sides of the same coin. Tennyson understood this when he penned"It's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all."
The sentiment that struck me as so profound was "easy." It just never occurred to my friend to not be grateful. The emotional and spiritual place that she "lives" made gratitude a logical extension, not of her pain, but of His promise. The Psalmist (42.5) said it this way..
Loss isn't abandonment. It isn't the death of hope. It's an intersection of life where one can step back and see life not just for what it isn't, but for what it is; it's at that place, in that moment, we see the goodness of God, and it's easy to be grateful.
Lost and found. A fitting description.
Two weeks after I graduated from High School, my father died, I was 17. In 1984, just after my 31st birthday, my mother died . I was 38 when I learned I had diabetes. I began a "rest of my life" battle with skin cancer in 1996, at age 43. Disappointment...oh my, where do I start. Failure--several crushing instances. Unrealized dreams, of course.
My story isn't unique. It's called, "being human." Loss is just a part of the "living experience." Life is hard, and, can be very harsh--and it's not fair. Loss, though we all face it, is not simply a one size fits all process. For some, loss means never experiencing "what could have been." For others it's remembering "what was." For all of us it's losing people we love, to death. Life's "Harsh passages" include broken relationships, disease, tragic accidents, children "lost" in adolescence and never able to move on to productive adult lives, addiction, betrayal, unfaithful spouses and/or friends...have I described your "loss-story" yet?
Recently, an extended family member, and friend, facing a number of very difficult circumstances posted a comment about loss, she concluded, "Easy to be philiosophical...easy to be grateful too." As I paused to reflect on her words, I was struck by this profound insight.
"Easy to be grateful too..." Really? We can't, generally, control loss. Bad things happen to good (and bad) people. We can, however, control our attitude and our response to loss. We can ask "why me?" or we can declare "why NOT me!" That's the "philosophical" part.
The "grateful" part comes when, our pain notwithstanding, we aren't swallowed by bitterness; through the darkness of the moment, we still see the sunshine we've experienced over the years--as well as the expectation that the sun will shine again. Loss frames our perspective. It reminds us of the providence of God and the blessings we enjoy and have enjoyed through the ebb and flow of life. It's ironic, loss and gratitude are two sides of the same coin. Tennyson understood this when he penned"It's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all."
The sentiment that struck me as so profound was "easy." It just never occurred to my friend to not be grateful. The emotional and spiritual place that she "lives" made gratitude a logical extension, not of her pain, but of His promise. The Psalmist (42.5) said it this way..
"Why am I discouraged?
Why is my heart so sad?
I will put my hope in God!
I will praise him again—
my Savior and my God."
Loss isn't abandonment. It isn't the death of hope. It's an intersection of life where one can step back and see life not just for what it isn't, but for what it is; it's at that place, in that moment, we see the goodness of God, and it's easy to be grateful.
Lost and found. A fitting description.
