Little Losses

Sorrow is a common companion, but it's no one's friend.

"Grief," wrote Shakespeare, "makes one hour 10." C. S. Lewis observed, "No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."

When major losses come, waves of sadness threaten to overwhelm us. After losing his wealth, his children, and his health, Job sat with his friends, exhausted and emotionally spent. Grief-stricken, David responded to the tragic death of his son by sobbing, "O my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you—O Absalom, my son, my son!" (2 Samuel 18:33). In Gethsemane as the shadow of the cross loomed over him, Jesus told his disciples, "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death" (Matthew 26:38).

Grief is understandable in the midst of major losses. But what about the lesser griefs we endure on a daily basis? What about the little losses that wear away our strength like water dripping steadily on a rock?

Day after day, a middle-aged woman faces the cruelty of an insensitive husband who erodes her self-esteem. A young man with a physical disability feels a sense of loss every time he looks in the mirror. A stroke victim grieves over her lost mobility and garbled speech. A successful business leader feels a loss of significance as he settles reluctantly into retirement. The parents of a young adult struggle with sadness when their son or daughter goes away to college. The parents of a missionary feel a mixture of pride and grief when they stand at the airport waving goodbye to their grandchildren.

These "little" losses seem minor compared to the devastation of a death or the shock of a tragic accident, yet they are anything but minor to those who experience them. Psychologist Archibald Hart observes that losses—real, abstract, imagined, or threatened—lead to depression, and one key to overcoming depression is to allow ourselves to grieve our losses, whether they are large or small.

Jesus brings a fresh perspective to our losses, for in his kingdom the humble are exalted and the proud are brought low, the meek inherit the earth and those who mourn find comfort. According to Jesus, "whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it" (Mark 8:35).

The apostle Paul's viewpoint is equally remarkable: "I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ" (Philippians 3:8). Could it be that the best way to handle life's losses is to make the decision ahead of time to give up everything for the sake of Christ? Could it be that if I surrender my health, money, family, career, reputation, and goals to the Lord, then my sense of loss won't be so great when these possessions go away? After all, they weren't mine in the first place—they were simply on loan from God.

Benjamin Franklin said, "Those things that hurt, instruct." The biblical concept of losing ourselves for the Lord's sake may hurt, but it's a prescription for emotional health. "Count everything as loss," and then the little losses (and the big ones) won't be quite so surprising or so devastating.

In this land of sorrow, our tears are purifying soap for the soul. But soon the Lord will wipe away every tear in a place where we have nothing to lose and everything to gain.