With all this grief, on a societal level perhaps not seen since 9/11 or the stock market crash of 1929, we pastors and other church staff sure could use more ministers. For Baptists, this shouldn’t be a novel idea.
If we truly enter into the “Common Weeping” during this time of tragic suffering, we can be saved from our cruder emotions. Instead of airing our grievances, let’s uncover our griefs. The first destroys community; the second builds it.
On Ash Wednesday, I will try to reconcile with a Jesus who stands before me, ready to offer the love I desperately need. I will try to find his hand amid my darkness, a brokenness that has nothing to do with my sin.
The Jan. 26 death of retired NBA star Kobe Bryant touched off a wave of public mourning that transcended social class and grieved many who aren’t sports fans. And that came as no surprise to Chanequa Walker-Barnes, associate professor of…
It’s been nearly a thousand days and nights since my wife died. Yes, the Lord is with me. Yes, Hwa is with God. I just wish she were still with me.
In looking back on irretrievable loss, perhaps we can do a better job of capturing the here and now.
“I was equipped to function in the midst of crisis and to be a non-anxious presence, but nothing prepares you or equips you for the grief over someone who is dear to you.”
Amid all the smiles and laughter, if you’re grieving this Christmas, it’s OK. Your anguish has a role to play.
A high school graduation party for the daughter of a beloved friend who died 14 years ago evoked memories, sorrow, laughter and hope. But deep in the throes of sadness for those we lose, like Kyle Lake and Rachel Held Evans, is the reality of God’s stubborn insistence that life always follows death.