It’s been almost 15 years since grief set up shop in my house. Yes, I had experienced grief before, but never quite to this extent.
Grief and I have reached a tentative truce. I am no longer incapacitated every time it rears its ugly head, at least for now. But on occasion, it likes to remind me that it is still here and willing to plumb the depths of misery and tears once more.
Like most folks, I’ve experienced the expected losses that are simply part of life. Live long enough, and you’ll lose grandparents, parents, friends, and maybe even a spouse. It’s going to happen one way or another. Forgive the fatalism, but the potential for loss and grief is an ever-present fact of life.
Sometimes we experience losses that are not the result of someone dying. Recently, I suffered the loss of a job, identity, purpose, and community. With some trepidation, I’ll admit that this particular grief has hit me with both feet. These losses, combined with the loss of friendships I wrongly imagined were real, have come close to incapacitating me, but not today. Not today.
This past Saturday, I engaged with a new community at a monthly veterans’ breakfast. Most of the guys (and one gal) were Vietnam-era veterans, but there was an easy camaraderie that cut across service years and branches. It seemed the preponderance of folks were former Army. With it being the 82nd anniversary of D-Day, I did hear one good Marine Corps quip about their absence. Being a former sailor, I kept my mouth shut.
I knew one person there—a neighbor I truly appreciate—and two barely known acquaintances. Still, it was a new community. It won’t replace what was lost, but it will allow new friendships to form within a brotherhood of former service members.
Am I being whiny and self-focused in this column? Maybe, but that’s not the point. The point is this: loss brings change, and change brings new opportunities. Embrace the change, grow with it, and you might be amazed at what comes next. As John Waller once wrote and sang, “I’m waiting on You, Lord, and I am hopeful.”
I can’t wait to see what God does next!
“I waited patiently for the Lord, and he turned to me and heard my cry for help. He brought me up from a desolate pit, out of the muddy clay, and set my feet on a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and they will trust in the Lord.” (Psalms 40:1-3 CSB)
Les Ferguson, Jr. is a minister and faith-based author. He can be reached at lfergusonjr@gmail.com
