Nobody likes loss.  It hurts.  It is hard.  Painful.  We hate it.  We resist it.  It crushes us.  We run from it.  We hope it never finds us.  

We act like loss never happened.  

Aren’t we immune to the hardships of this world?

Loss.  It’s no friend.  Instead, it’s a foe like no other.  

I’m reminded of loss so much this past week.  This particular July was a hard month for us.

To be honest, there are few things that are inspiring me to write today.  Like you, I feel loss too.  Pain.  Heartache.  I’m sure you can identify with me.  It makes you weary at times.

Concerning loss, it doesn’t have to be a person.  Although it many times is.  Sometimes loss takes the shape of a wonderful job that you unexpectedly will not be enjoying anymore.  You were let go.  The company downsized.  

Sometimes it is wrapped in the ugly package when a friendship has dissolved.  Someone you enjoyed being with.  Someone you don’t see anymore.  

A home burns to the ground.  

A car is wrecked and totaled.  

An heirloom is misplaced.  

Something you treasured, stolen.

Maybe something your son or daughter made for you is ruined; a replacement is impossible.  Loss can be tangible or intangible.  Is there anything more important than your health?

Loss stinks.

But what exactly is the deal with loss?  

So unwanted.  So misunderstood.  So feared.  We avoid it like the plague.  But really, what is the thing with loss?  What is loss?  Why does it hurt so bad?  Why does it cripple us?  

I decided to look it up.  Google says that loss is “the fact or process of losing something or someone.”  It can also mean “the state or feeling of grief when deprived of someone or something of value.”

Does knowing that make it any easier?

This past week we had to once again face several losses.  Hard to believe, but each and every year July 20th always comes around.  It never misses.

Dates do that to those who have suffered loss.  

Some years it is easier than others.  Some years I’m occupied in something.  Some years it catches me off guard.  This year was a little weightier because we also had some milestones in our family around the same time.  Typically, one can celebrate milestones and rejoice in their coming.  Isn’t that what milestones are for?  But, families that have suffered loss know well that even the most pleasant milestones can be stained with the tincture of pain when not everybody can enjoy the celebration with you.  We smile.  We rejoice.  But we also all remember.

Our oldest graduated from high school.  What an incredible milestone to celebrate.  I’m sure his mother would have wanted to see it. 

Possibly, she did.

It didn’t end there.  Within a week we found out that our black buddy of a Labrador Retriever has an aggressive form of cancer on his jaw.  Yes, he’s a dog.  But this same dog was there for kiddos in big ways when they needed someone to help hold and heal them.  

We are being advised from our Vet on what to do. 

Doesn’t make it any easier.

Sometimes life is plain hard.

What does loss do to us?

Why does it hurt so badly?

What does loss look like in the physical/emotional/psychological?

Jacob tore his clothes.  He refused to be comforted.  He wore sackcloth when he was told his Joseph was eaten by a wild animal.

When his grief hit, it hit hard.

Job as well.  He tore his mantle.  Shaved his head.

Does grief have to make sense?

But aren’t the outward signs of loss the easiest to bear?

What scars lie on the heart are the hardest to hold.

Well, the graduation party came. . . and we celebrated indeed.  We partied ‘till the cows came home and had a wonderful time.  We had old friends over that we haven’t seen in years.  In some ways, beautiful quilted squares of grace patched over old scars of loss.  There was a lot of living at our house that night.  Incredible people.  Incredible smiles.  Incredible reunions.

Also hard pains.

Though Jesus was fully God on earth, he was also fully human.  He shared a full set of the human emotional range and feeling with us.  Many times in scripture He experienced grief.  Sorrow.  Sadness.  Loss.

Yes.  Even Jesus felt intense emotional pain.

Luke 19:41-44

And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.”

Or what about on a more personal level?

John 11:32-37

Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled. And he said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” Jesus wept. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?”

Yes, Jesus suffered loss too.  He cried for a city who wouldn’t accept His gift of salvation, the gift of His own life that would be sacrificed for it.  He cried for the loss of a friendship, even though His friend would be raised again from the dead, something quite mysterious for us to process.  Jesus was so completely God, in fully human form, that he was able to process both ends of this spectrum.  He knew ahead of time that this friend would raise to life.  He also knew the intense pain of losing someone He loved.

Loss.

Is there more?

Sometimes there doesn’t need to be more.

Today’s post is a special one.  Special in the sense that I’m not going to tell you to “just be happy.”  I’m not going to smack you on the back and say, “It won’t hurt forever.”  I’m not going to fluff you with “Don’t worry, you will love again.”  Clichés like, “They are in a better place” don’t need to be repeated.  Sorry.  That stuff doesn’t work.

Sometimes, just like Jesus, one feels pain. . . and that’s ok.

Sometimes it’s ok to cry in the rain.

Sometimes it’s ok to cry for the dog.

Jesus wept.

By Chuck Carr