My First Real Loss

I know--at first glance this post may not seem very apt for the week before Christmas! Micah and I certainly would not have chosen to lose our beloved little puppy, a 2-year old ball of energy and affection, at this time.

Fluffy suddenly became very sick last week. After two costly trips to the veterinarian and one 1:00 am trip to the animal emergency clinic, we learned that Fluffy was suffering from a serious internal infection that would have to be treated with a very expensive surgery. Even if she could be stabilized enough to go into surgery, there was only a small chance that she could be saved even then. We had to make the very difficult decision to have her put to sleep.

My sweet puppy was in so much pain by yesterday afternoon, that she could barely move or open her eyes. I petted her and talked to her as the nurses gave her the final shots.

I still can't help crying every time I think about her. We miss her so much, and the house feels so quiet without her little pitter-pattering paws and the jingle of her collar.

I know that I am blessed to have been spared until now from losing any person I'm close to, or any special pet. (Even my two childhood puppies are still living, though they are extremely old and will not be around much longer.) I didn't know it could hurt so much, and that's scary when I consider that many more sorrows--much deeper and more breath-taking--are sure to come as my life continues. Unfortunately, there is no way to escape the reality of sin and death and sadness in our imperfect world.

Christmas itself--the most joyful of seasons--is only significant as the advent to the larger story of Christ's sacrifice on the cross, the greatest pain known to man. But out of the pain and sorrow of Christ's death sprung the fruits of hope and salvation for the world! God has a way of transforming people and situations. From the dust of broken dreams--beauty. From meaninglessness--purpose. From agonizing loss--comfort. From hardship--growth.

I think this is the story of Christ's plan for our lives: that every missing piece, every loss, every dent or scratch we suffer might be filled and made whole again with Him. He is the only One who can. Without Him, we are broken with no hope for healing. Worldly success won't do it. Money won't accomplish it. Our relationships with others cannot heal us, for others are broken too. And no one can heal himself: try it sometime! All of that inward focus will only serve to make you even more depressed at the depths of your own depravity, and the desolation of your shattered soul.

From Micah's and my grief at losing Fluffy has already come one sweet fruit: We have had the chance to communicate from our hearts about our perspectives on life, death, loss and trust in God. We agree that we want to put our faith in Him to hold our moments. Though we both have a certain amount of fear of the pain and loss that might be asked of us, we want to try to focus on God's love for us instead.

"If anyone acknowledges that Jesus is the Son of God, God lives in him and he in God. And so we know and rely on the love God has for us."

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us."

1 John 4:15-16 and 4:18-19