The Haunting of Living Losses
Camp is in full swing here in our little corner of Kentucky. This means that during the week, sounds of laughter, singing, and shouts drift across the hayfield to our house. Occasionally, music from folk dancing to songs such as Pata Pata (One of the few dances I’ve actually learned!) finds its way across as well. I truly believe that we live in one of the best places.
As an outsider to the weeks, one of the best moments comes on Wednesday evenings when each camp holds their worship at the same time. The senior highs may be in Open Air Chapel, the middle schoolers in Trinity Chapel Worship area, and the elementary kiddos at the Loucon Lake Chapel. If one sits on the front porch of the dining hall, you can hear all three worships singing and praising. This must be what heaven is like.
Worship time continues when everyone makes their way up Vesper Hill to watch a visual retelling of a part of Jesus’ life. This year the focus is on Jesus’ love and his command for us to be the soil where that love grows and spreads to others. The summer staff works hard making sure the story is offered in a way that the campers can connect with and find themselves in.
Last night was my first opportunity to attend. About half way through, though, my heart and mind became distracted. Our oldest is one of the worship leaders this summer, so he and a small group led us in song as we received communion and spent time in prayer. It was beautiful.
Except that a part of me was struggling. For nearly 15 years, our family was blessed by campus ministry worship. Eric is so good at guiding young adults in discovering and using their gifts, and he did a fantastic job of fostering those with the worship teams. During his junior and senior years of high school, our oldest joined in from time to time. Those times have filled my heart with so much joy.
But then, three years ago, when our world fell apart, and Eric took a new job in Kentucky, we lost that worship time with our own children. Our oldest has been the worship leader for his campus ministry, and for the past year he’s been the same at a church close by. Thanks to live-streaming, we’ve been able to watch from 13 hours away. But, it’s just not the same.
So, last night, as I listened and sang along, I tried to soak it all in. Don’t dwell on what you’re missing, I thought. Focus on what you have right now. What is, cannot be changed. Be present now.
As the worship time ended, I gave a prayer of thanks. I was reminded that God has given me a gift this summer. It is up to me to not squander it. Even if my heart aches a little each time.
Many of us are living with “living losses.” We just may not know to call them that. Julia Samuels defines a living loss as the feeling of grief we get when an abrupt change happens in our lives that we have little to no control over… losing a job, breaking up with a partner…” The person or thing is still present, but our relationship or connection with them has dramatically changed.
The difficult thing about any loss is that it’s not just the person or thing that we grieve. It’s all of the secondary losses that come with it as well, even months and years down the road.
Living with living losses is hard, and they can paralyze us in our “Now.” I’d like to offer a few words of encouragement and reminders for all who are struggling:
Don’t just push through your grief. Acknowledge it and make peace with it as best as you can. This isn’t the same as “get over the grief.” It’s saying that you know the loss has happened and life is different now.
Think about the rule for hiking - don’t focus on what lies ahead, how far you still have to go, or how high that mountain is. Look behind you and recognize how far you have come. Give yourself credit for how far you have made it.
When you have a moment of peace or joy, don’t let what was or could’ve been distract you. Sit and be where you are now.Reality will return soon enough; don’t let it steal the moment.
Spend time with God, who really is the greatest healer of our souls and spirits. God knows what we carry, and He really does want to lighten our load. We likely can never recover what or who we have lost. But God can bring us to new places with new people in our lives to help us find a way to continue living into the present.
Peace,
Denise
