Dealing with Loss |
|
Elder
Phillip N. Conley |
Evening Thoughts
One of
the oldest clichés about our existence is, "Death is a part
of life." We all understand this on a conceptual level, but
when the "rubber meets the road," it affects us in different
ways at different times. During this time of the year with
holidays, family time, etc. death and loss seems to invade
even seasons such as this. Many families - while joyous of
the holiday season - recall to mind those that they have
lost: either due to losing them at this time of year or in
seeing certain family seats empty that once were filled. So,
for a time and season that is generally filled with
thanksgiving and rejoicing, how do we deal with our loss in
a fashion that pleases God and strengthens our inner man?
The
human mind can be a fragile thing as we build up tendencies,
notions, prejudices, and fancies that many times are not
really rooted in fact but rather opinion. When an older
person passes away, it might seem natural to think, "Well,
they lived a good life, and though we'll miss them, it's
understandable." When a young person passes away, it might
seem natural to think, "What a tragedy! Such a loss with so
much life left!" Again, this is natural to think like this,
but is it really fact? Some of my deepest losses have not
been the young that I've lost but rather the old. When those
sage old vessels of wisdom depart these shores, it can leave
me with a void that seems like a canyon. When lifelong
encouragers are stripped from us, we feel the grief that
their shining countenance and cheerful disposition will be
absent from our days here.
So, if a
loss can be deeply felt - regardless of the circumstance of
the person - we should look for a common answer. Yes, the
Bible reader can point to heaven itself. Yes, the faithful
kingdom soldier can point to the love and grace of God that
has overcome death so that we might have hope while we
continue our pilgrimage. Recently, during this season of
thanksgiving, I came to a realization that of all the things
I was thankful for, I had left something glaringly out. Has
that ever happened to you kind reader? Have you had the
"palm smack the forehead" moment that made you feel very
tiny in your thoughts and understanding?
Sometimes if we look hard enough, we can find blessings in
curses and curses in blessings. They come in all forms.
Wealth and goods can be a great blessing and a great curse.
Good things bestowed can turn the heart to covetousness or
idolatry. None of us are immune. Many times, we are thankful
for the deliverances from death. Salvation from its effects.
Deliverance from its end. However, I am now thankful for
death itself. Yes, there is a great curse in death. It is
the penalty for sin. Yet, the blessing in death is that it
separates the child of God from the curses, strains, and
toils of this existence.
Many
years ago, I lost a 1st
cousin at the ripe old age of 22. A few years later, we lost
my father at the elderly age of 49. Both situations brought
a multitude of statements and condolences about what a great
loss it was and the tragedy of so much potential cut short.
A few years ago, we lost my great uncle and my father in the
ministry who were both in their 80s. In both cases, people
talked about the good soldier laying his armor down.
However, all those cases - though varied in many ways - are
still felt to some degree by me today. My 1st
cousin was one of the nicest young men I had the pleasure of
knowing, my father was a great instructor with much of what
I know today to his credit, my great uncle was the meekest
man I ever knew, and my father in the ministry was one of
the kindest and wisest men I ever had the pleasure of being
around. What was common to their cases?
Some had
cancer, some had heart conditions, some showed the rapid
advance of age in all its ugliness. Death relieved each of
them from those burdens. The pain of cancer is gone. The
burden of a sin cursed existence is forever removed. Job
declared that infants that never see the light of day are in
a place where the "wicked cease from troubling" and the
"weary be at rest." (Job 3:15) Consider what we think is the
tragedy of the death of a child. Job declares that a child
in such a case cannot be troubled by the wickedness that we
daily endure, and the weary soul and longing heart is in
complete rest.
Years
ago, a rock band posited the question, "Who wants to live
forever?" Seen in the context of this life, who would? Would
you want to live forever with cancer wracking your body with
pain? How about a ticker that keeps you weary, out of
breath, and light-headed? More importantly, would you want a
perpetual life where evil thoughts and wicked desires rise
up in your heart and prey on your mind? No friends, though
the curse and sting of death can be bitter for us in this
old world, I'm thankful for death. It is the vehicle that
separates us from all these curses that we see and endure.
When God
placed the flaming sword in the Garden of Eden to keep the
way to the tree of life, that was a curse that man had
brought upon himself. His right to that tree was banned.
Yet, even that curse had a silver lining. God knew that man
would attempt to eat it and live forever, so He prevented
that from happening. Why? So we would not live forever down
here. We will not live with these problems and deal with
strife forever. Sometimes - like all I suppose - I think
about what it would be like to chat with one of those sage
minds once again or listen to the encouragement and kindness
of those that have been so good to me. And yet, I'm glad
that they aren't plagued with cancer, bent over in a
wheelchair where they can't walk, or suffering the ravages
of a stroke, senility, etc. Forever they are at rest and
peace at home.
What are
you thankful for? I'm supremely thankful most of all for the
Almighty and what He has done for us. One of the things I'm
now thankful for is that we have the deliverance that death
brings. The Psalmist declared that the death of the Lord's
saints was "precious" in His sight. (Psalm 116:15) May this
be precious to us as well in that while we miss the
fellowship of our loved ones, we love the deliverance that
has fully and mightily come unto them. A fellow minister
told me one time, "I've gotten to the point where I have
more friends up there than down here. Sometimes I feel sorry
for myself that I'm still around, but I remember His grace
and await the day that death knocks on my door. When it
does, I'll not only see my friends again, I'll see Him with
the perfect understanding that just doesn't belong in a
place like this." |