I wrote about loss several times last year. After all it was 2020 and worldwide we were experiencing grief in unique ways. A year later I’m on this topic again proving we need a better way to handle its frequency. I propose that we find a way to mourn losses as a normal rhythm of life. I propose the "spiritual discipline of mourning."
“We have rejoiced with you? Will you suffer with us?” pleaded prominent black therapist Dr. Anita Phillips in a recent conversation with white author and activist, Christine Caine. She was applying a familiar verse in a deeply personal appeal: If one part [of the body] suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. 1 Corinthians 12:26 NIV
I'm on another crafting binge. The last time I made so many projects in one stretch was after my dad passed away. When I finally came up for air, I asked myself, "What was that?" I now realize it was my response to grief.
Why is it when everything is nearly perfect, it always changes? My nearly perfect pastor resigned last week. Of course, I know as a man he's not perfect, and I didn't even know him personally, but the church's mix of style, doctrine, leadership and preaching was nearly perfect for me. This feeling isn't new. I've … Continue reading The Certainty of Change
Image by Mark Filter from Pixabay "Let's call her and tell her you are sorry about her father and ask her if she wants to come over to play", my mother coached me after breaking the news that my best friend's father had just perished in a tragic airplane crash in the highlands of Papua … Continue reading Loss: Common and Cross-Cultural
I am tired. My soul is weary from nearly two months of grieving, traveling, being out of routine, engaging with lots of people (I am an introvert after all), hosting guests, not enough time with my spouse or by myself and facing even more upheaval in the weeks ahead. I am not complaining for this … Continue reading Unlimited Resources
I was standing on the banks of Lake James in Angola, IN while my friend lay dying many miles away. As the water rippled up to the shore, the waves of grief washed over me. The November wind blew strongly in my face and through my pants, harsh and cold like the disease that ripped … Continue reading Grief and Love