Loss (from September 2008)

Loss. The word conjures up images of pain, tears, searching, and emptiness. We don’t want it, but we all must face it. Sometimes, we fight so hard to hang on, and we strain with all our might to stem the tide of impending change. At other times, the acceptance comes quickly, but the sadness lingers. Whether the loss is immediate and unexpected, or a long and difficult process, the hurt it brings is real, cutting, and often leaves a deep and visible scar on our soul.

Losing something or someone close to us can leave us feeling helpless and debilitated. The sorrow can put us in a state of helplessness. Yet, we must move forward. So how do we press on? What do we bring with us as we walk the journey that can move us beyond the current pain? How do we honor and remember what was, while we learn to live and prosper with what is?

Years ago, as I watched my first husband struggle through a horrible fatal illness, I went kicking and screaming into my grief. Not only did I refuse to cry out to God, I tried my best to keep Him away. After all, wasn’t He the one who could have prevented all of this? But even in my defiance, God loved me enough to pursue me. “Fear not”, he said to me, “for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name. You are mine.” (Isaiah 43:1) When I was in the pit of my pain, my precious Lord was there to pick me up. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the muck and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. (Psalm 40:2) It was through the most excruciating time of loss that I began to look for peace, and I found it only in the Prince of Peace himself. As I reflect on that time, I realize how much molding and shaping the Lord did in my life, and how beautiful my relationship with Him became during those difficult years. Without that experience, my walk with my Savior would not be the rich and deep fellowship I am now able to enjoy with Him.

Now, I am facing a different but equally painful type of loss. My precious parents are moving from their home of 55+ years and are going to a retirement center. While the place they are moving to is beautiful and the amenities are wonderful, it is simply not “home”. As soon as my siblings and I learned about their move & had only begun to deal with those emotions, we got a second blow. My mother, who has given her life for her Lord and her family, has been diagnosed with dementia. It is still in the early stages, and there is hope to change the course somewhat with medication, but the fear of the unknown and the sadness we feel are real. As I’m facing the loss of my childhood home, and the change that age is bringing to all of us in my family, I am choosing not to fight this time. My choice now is to embrace all that it means to feel this loss. Had I not been blessed with the parents and family I have, there would be no sense of sadness. If my parents weren’t followers of Christ, our home would not have been the place of nurture, safety, laughter and encouragement that it is. If our lives weren’t so full of meaningful, beautiful memories, there would be no fear in my Mother eventually losing hers. No, instead of fighting, this time I am choosing to thank God for every moment of pain, because it is rooted in a deep and profound blessing in my life. Even more, I choose to ask God to help me and my whole family see His abundant provision and love in this new phase of life, and to look for His mercies that are new every morning.

Yes, loss still hurts, and some scarring will probably take place as I walk through this passage in life’s journey. This time, I won’t fight. Instead, I choose—moment by moment-- to give my pain and my fears to the one who bears the scars of my sin. It is only in those perfect, beautiful, nail-scarred hands that I know I will safely make it through.


Maria Owens
September, 2008