Hey Friends!
Before you jump into this week’s article, I just wanted to make sure that you were aware that The Lighthouse is a podcast too. Each week I record and post this same article, because I know some people prefer to listen rather than read. If that’s you, subscribe to The Lighthouse Podcast wherever you listen. For sake of ease, you can find links to subscribe on Spotify and Apple Podcasts below. I hope it’s helpful!
- Ryan
Another summer break has come and gone.
With the change in season comes another change in grade for my kids. Gone are the days of elementary school; I now have two high schoolers and a middle schooler.
These transitions are complicated.
On the one hand, they are exciting. To be honest, I don’t miss changing diapers or waking up in the middle of the night. I don’t miss the stress of just trying to get out the door or eating a meal without a meltdown.
But I do miss the way they smelled fresh out of the bath. I miss the feeling of holding them against my chest. I miss tea parties, wrestling matches, and the ease of trips to the park.
Like many transitions, this one involves both gains and losses, making it complicated.
The more I learn about grief, the more I’m trying to tend to these little losses. As I’ve written before, loss is a regular part of life in this world. We experience huge losses, like the death of a loved one. But we also experience smaller losses.
I’ve officially entered “middle age,” and I’m having to come to terms with more and more parts of my life that have not and will not turn out the way I thought they would. There’s a loss in that.
Any season of life that comes to an end involves a loss. When you leave a job, move away from a prior home or city, or advance in school, every transition involves a loss.
Even something as simple as your favorite show coming to an end involves a loss.
A couple of years ago, when my sons would head off to read in bed, our oldest would stay up with Tami and me to watch an episode of The Walking Dead. Like me, she was immediately captivated by these incredible characters. I remember the sadness I felt when this story came to an end after 11 seasons. Daryl rides off on his motorcycle. Michonne heads out to search for Rick. And we all sat in a puddle of tears.
While the loss of a show doesn’t compare to the loss of a loved one, my point is simply that life is filled with losses, big and small.
I bring this up because I think we’re in danger of neglecting these “lesser losses.” Don’t get me wrong—often, we’re ill-equipped to grieve even our massive losses. But if that’s the case, then these smaller ones are certainly being neglected.
The problem is, we never move through the losses we don’t grieve. As a result, we get stuck in them, or rather, they get stuck within us. I don’t find it most helpful to think in terms of getting over them. But we do need to get through our losses, great and small, in a healthy manner. Otherwise, our bodies and minds hold them in a way that obstructs our ability to flourish in life.
This means we need a simple way to keep short accounts, even with these “little losses.” To that end, allow me to offer you three questions to ask on a daily basis, or anytime you experience a loss of any size:
NUMBER ONE. What have I lost?
This question is about acknowledgment. Especially when it comes to these “little losses,” it can be easy to ignore or even deny the grief that accompanies our losses. It’s sad when our kids stop needing us to hold them. It’s disappointing when sickness disrupts plans. It hurts when someone is distracted by their phone when you’re trying to share something that matters to you. Obviously, these losses aren’t of the same size and scope as others. But 1 Peter 5:7 says, “…cast all your cares on him, because he cares about you.” God isn’t only concerned with the “big” losses of life. He cares about all of it. So take a moment to ask, “What have I lost?”
NUMBER TWO. What am I feeling?
Loss has a way of provoking a range of emotions. We get angry. We get sad. We feel guilt, regret, and fear. Each of these longs for attention. Each of them differs in what they may need. This means we have to pay attention to them. In Psalm 139:23, the Psalmist invites God, praying, “Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.” This is a great prayer because sometimes we don’t know what we’re feeling. That doesn’t mean we are not feeling something. Often, our emotions are challenging to identify. This is why we invite God’s Spirit to help us. So give yourself a little time and space, ask the Spirit for help, and invite your feelings to the surface.
NUMBER THREE. What do I need?
For years, my wife and I never owned house plants. Occasionally, we’d see a cute one at Trader Joe’s, bring it home, and kill it within days. But now we have a “plant friend” in our lives. Every time she comes over, another plant comes with her. To our great amazement, all these plants are still alive. This is because our friend carefully explains how to tend to each one. And by and large, they all need to be tended to in slightly different ways. Our hearts and minds are the same.
Psalm 104 positions God as our great Creator. He carefully tends to every part of His creation. Verse 16 says, “The trees of the LORD flourish, the cedars of Lebanon that he planted.” As you consider what you need, imagine God drawing near to gently tend to whatever you need.
Comfort? He’s got it (2 Corinthians 1:3-5).
Peace? His surpasses understanding (Philippians 4:6-7).
Help with a decision? He loves to give us wisdom (James 1:5-8).
One thing I can say with certainty is that we always need to talk. For starters, we always need to talk with God. He welcomes all of us and never needs us to edit or sanitize our prayers. Pour out your unfiltered response.
We also benefit greatly from talking to others, particularly about grief. Maybe you need to find a spiritual director or have a pastor who can be trusted to hold space for you. Maybe it’s a friend or a co-worker. I can’t over-stress the power of an empathetic presence as we work to grieve our losses, great and small.
In the midst of all this, I want to close with some comforting encouragement. In his seminal book, The Reason for God, Tim Keller reminds us:
“The Biblical view of things is resurrection—not a future that is just a consolation for the life we never had but a restoration of the life you always wanted. This means that every horrible thing that ever happened will not only be undone and repaired but will in some way make the eventual glory and joy even greater.”
God brings beauty out of our broken pieces. Every loss, even the little ones, will be undone. So grieve them freely and safely in the presence of our gentle God.
Each loss is unique, and requires it’s own grief. I remember the time when our 19 and 24 year old sons left home, one to college and the other to a job in another state. In a 2-week period we went from the “fab four” to a not so dynamic duo. We were no strangers to losses; as a military family, we’d seen lots of transition, but this was different. My wife and I decided we would own this with each other and other close friends, and unapologetically admit our honest feelings of the loss and grief. The grieving actually helped put the previous years in perspective, as we remembered the hard fought closeness that we had experienced with our sons while they were still home with us every day.
Love this. I’ve been trying to practice naming my grief, losses etc. A few years ago I was on a long walk and I was really sad because I realized that some friendships had changed and some had ended. It was the Naming of that that brought me to tears and I allowed myself to grieve it. I learned that practice from listening to Emily P Freeman. At times those losses still make me sad but now I know that I’ve named it and that helps so much. As of now we are grieving some other changes but again naming it and allowing ourselves to be sad,, not focus on it but recognize it’s ok to be sad about this situation. Thanks for this writing.