“Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him, and opened his mouth and he taught them saying… blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” ~Matthew 5:1-2 & 4
We have lost.
It’s one of the things that’s certain–life is but a vapor. If you don’t brace for the glory of the hereafter, it sneaks up on you and robs you blind. We all know that; we’ve all experienced that in degrees. For today, I’ll leave that topic to those who have struggled with more intimate losses, to those who are struggling with it.
To them, I’ll just say grace and peace and leave it at that.
We’ve endured different kinds of losses. We’ve burried ideals, laid them to rest. Health, wealth, the movements of the church, family notions–they’ve all been put down, drowned deep in the river. The death of ideals can be difficult and lonely.
Maybe those losses are the most difficult to endure. Often, we can’t point to the culprit. After all, we never placed tangible ashes of “ideals” in a tangible box and slid them into a tangible columburium. Sometimes the loss of the ideals takes months or years to discover. Disillusionment can be an arduous process. Dying to self can be excruciating if not transforming.
Together, we have stuck it out. We counted these losses as the cost of discipleship. We’ve mourned what we thought was the stuff of life. We’ve mourned the loss of innocence and the sin that so easily entangles. We’ve mourned who we were. In that, we’ve burrried a bit of ourselves. But we’re still here. We’re here and we’re comforted. We’re comforted because the truth is always more satisfying than the ideal.
Still standing with you,
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