Response to Loss

About a month ago I was sat in my new university room, coming to terms with a call from my mum that my dad had just died from a heart attack. I’m only a couple of months into my first term, so uni was an exciting new adventure and I can’t say I thought about much else. But I was ripped out of it and hit by my life’s frailty when I heard my dad died. I had never lost anything before him, and life was comfortable and safe. I have a wonderful family and friends, and I took this for granted.

But as we drove home deep into the night, I thought with a new clarity and perspective. I felt stripped to the core, rid of the fluff that I had made my identity and like a clay jar—fragile and empty without Christ. Never before had I so felt the need for Him as my saviour, and if I truly believed in Him then I needed to put Him at the very centre of my life, as my dad did. The next morning my mum read Psalm 39, and verse 5 reads,

“You have made my days a mere handbreadth;

the span of my years is as nothing before you.

Everyone is but a breath,

even those who seem secure.”

My dad had a passion for social justice, and a couple of my reflections since his death have compelled me to fight harder for it as I restart my term. Firstly, I have tasted the bitterness of loss. Loss is a theme that resonates through the situations of all who are battered by injustice. The homeless have lost their homes and communities, the trafficked and the slaves have lost their freedom, hope, dignity and families. Just as Christ wept for Lazarus and for my dad, He also weeps for every one of these people, and He came to comfort those who mourn and serve the poor. By serving the marginalised, we ease their situations just a little and get an opportunity to show them the counsellor who has comforted my heart in the past month.

My other reflection has been on Hebrews 12: 1-2.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

My dad was a runner. He ran marathons, and had a strength and endurance in his running that he also showed in his life and ministry. And he didn’t carry anything with him he didn’t need—his whole life was committed to his faith. If my life is a race that I run for Jesus there is no point carrying extra burdens, and the response to dad’s death that would most honour his life would be to fully commit myself to the pursuit of God’s kingdom and His justice.