Monday 18 May 2020

A Grace Disguised. How the soul grows through loss – by Jerry Sittser


Sittser in his book on loss talks about friends Andy and Mary and their disabled child. Sarah has never walked, talked, or fed herself. She also has cerebral palsy… they have had to watch other children Sarah’s age progress normally toward adulthood, thus leaving their daughter farther and farther behind. Her presence in their lives dominates and drains them. They live under marital stress, worry about their limited financial resources, and wonder how they will be able to manage caring for her in the years ahead. As each day begins, they wake up to find loss ‘staring them in the face’. They want desperately to care for Sarah, but they are not quite sure how best to do it. They feel sorrow for Sarah and for themselves. What will happen to her? What will happen to them?

Andy and Mary will never ‘recover’ from their loss. Nor can they. Can anyone really expect to recover from such tragedy, considering the value of what was lost and the consequences of that loss? Recovery is a misleading and empty expectation. We recover from broken limbs, not amputations. Catastrophic loss precludes recovery. It will transform us or destroy us, but it will never leave us the same. There is no going back to the past, which is gone forever, only going ahead to the future, which has yet to be discovered, Whatever that future is, it will, and must, include the pain of the past with it. Sorrow never entirely leaves the soul of those who have suffered a severe loss. If anything, it may keep going deeper.


But this depth of sorrow is the sign of a healthy soul, not a sick soul. It does not have to be morbid and fatalistic. It is not something to escape but something to embrace. Jesus said, ‘blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted’. Sorrow indicates that people who have suffered loss are living authentically in a world of misery, and it expresses the emotional anguish of people who feel pain for themselves or for others. Sorrow is noble and gracious. It enlarges the soul until the soul is capable of mourning and rejoicing simultaneously, of feeling the world’s pain and hoping for the world’s healing at the same time. However painful, sorrow is good for the soul.


Deep sorrow often has the effect of stripping life of pretense, vanity, and waste. It forces us to ask basic questions about what is most important in life. Suffering can lead to a simpler life, less cluttered with nonessentials. It is wonderfully clarifying. That is why many people who suffer sudden and severe loss often become different people. They spend more time with their children or spouses, express more affection and appreciation to their friends, show more concern for other wounded people, give more time to a worthy cause, or enjoy more of the ordinariness of life.