I’m sad. Seems like an emotion that surfaces more and more
of my life. It started late 2011. I lost a classmate. Now that may not seem
like much, but there were only 21 one of us that graduated together. A few
months later, I lost another. Both died from an apparent drug overdose. Don’t
do drugs. They are bad. No, they’re more than bad. They absolutely destroy.
Then, in 2012, my sister was murdered by a crazy neighbor. In
the two years since she died, I’ve lost my sister’s mother-in-law and one Aunt
to cancer. I lost a cousin who was hit by a drunk driver. He was 18. I’ve lost
an Uncle to heart disease, and one Uncle died when a car fall on him. Three
sweet friends in my theater family died. My Pastor for 19 years, who was also
my boss for 15 of those years, committed suicide. Today, I received the news I
lost another cousin because of a drug overdose. Some circle huh?
It’s hard. But I find myself consoled in some weird way by
the thought that it’s not as hard as it could be. Some people are suffering at
a deeper level. I haven’t lost my spouse. I think that would be really hard. I
haven’t lost a child. That has to be harder. Do we grieve at different levels?
I was sad with some of the losses, but I was in total shock with others.
I guess I’m wondering if it matters at all how deep or
difficult the hurt is. In the moment, it’s pain. Plain and simple. Recovery
from the pain and hurt is never the same. Some losses have stayed and stayed;
others came and went in just a matter of hours. What I could not have predicted
was which ones lingered and which ones didn’t.
I hadn’t had much contact with my old classmates as an
adult, but I was sad for a long time when they died. Today, when I received the
news of my cousin, I was really sad. I didn’t know where she was living, how
many kids she had, or if she was even married. I didn’t know her much at all.
But it hurt. I think I’m a little scared too.
Her mother (well, grandmother really, but she was the woman
who raised her), died only last year. Was she still grieving? Was it the pain
of the loss that caused her death? When is it just too much? When is it too
hard?
For me, I know there is joy in life if I choose to stay the
course focused on the light of Jesus. I’ve no doubt His light shines brightly.
But what if the fog from the storms of life never lifts, and no matter how
bright the light is, the fog is too dense? What if I can’t see the light? In
the end, I know the light is always there, drawing me. Even when I can’t see, I
know the light will always be shining.
