Temporary Gifts

Last week was my wedding anniversary. The date on the calendar has been etched in my brain since 1981, when I walked down the aisle.  It was a day of gratitude for the years I did have, while grieving the years I didn’t get to have.

Recently, while attending a memorial service, I heard the pastor use the phrase “temporary gifts.” He attributed it to author and pastor, M. Craig Barnes, who wrote the book, “When God Interrupts: Finding New Life Through Unwanted Change” (InterVarsity Press, 1996).

As I reflected and pondered on those words, “temporary gift,” it became a reality check. I considered that my marriage was a temporary gift. My marriage vows contained the words, “till death do us part.” Life is filled with a season for everything. Like Ecclesiastes 3 reminds us, there is a “time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” Further in the same chapter, these words describe God’s perspective on time; “He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart.”

Time is precious. People are gifts. We can appreciate both while we are here.

Anniversaries, birthdays, and holidays will always be reminders of our loss. Grief will come waving the flag, announcing the absence of our loved ones. Still, amidst the pain, we can acknowledge the temporary gift of our loved one and experience deep gratitude for what we had.

‘‘Grateful Yet Grieving’’

FREE ebook by Pam Luschei | Click HERE To Download

Three Funerals and One Graduation

So much of life is defined by beginnings and endings. In the last 6 months, I’ve attended three funerals and one college graduation.

All of the events were marked by a start and a finish. All of the events provided the participants with an experience of collective connection.

The funerals were all for women I knew. Each of them fought the gut-wrenching ravages of cancer. As I listened to the words spoken by their children and their spouse, I ached and empathized with them, as they stood where they never wanted to be. Courage rose above their pain; love made them stand tall and speak when they wanted to crawl into a cave. Grief encapsulated the space with the reality of loss through a megaphone of love. The “house of mourning,” as Solomon says in Ecclesiastes, reminded those of us attending that life is short with a beginning and an end.

Sharing stories of their loved one offered those listening a closer look into their private world. The videos provided glimpses of life events, holidays, birthdays, and everyday moments of their loved one. How do you capture a lifetime in a 3-minute video? You don’t. Life is lived in daily moments over the years that we’ve been given. The risk of loving comes with the muted voicemail; we will grieve our loved ones when they die.

The three women whose funerals I attended left a lasting legacy of walking with God, loving well, serving unselfishly, and making a difference in people's lives. They were loved. So, we must grieve.

We can’t have one without the other. Over time, our grief takes up less space in our lives, but it will always be present. Over time, our love continues to grow and sustain us as we grieve. Grief is evidence of our love.

‘‘Grateful Yet Grieving’’

FREE ebook by Pam Luschei | Click HERE To Download