What Grief Teaches Us

Who is ever ready for tragedy?

It comes unannounced, and with brute force.

On July 29, 2017 my wife’s sister Pam and her husband, Scott, were on their way to the local movie theater. As they began to make a left turn into the cinema parking lot their car was struck by an SUV that drove through the red light.

Pam and Scott died at the scene.

They are survived by their three wonderful children Ryan, Erin and Shannon. The shock and grief of this tragedy cannot be overstated.

My wife, Rhonda, and I are broken.

Rhonda and I have spent the last couple weeks with family, grieving. This time away—from work, outside affairs, social media—coupled with deep reflection, has provided me with not only a new perspective but also a renewed sense of being.

I want to invite you into this journey of reflection and renewal. Over the next few weeks I want to share some of the lessons tragedy is teaching me.

I’m sure many of you have encountered similar moments of loss and grief. I’m of the mindset that our experiences shape our worlds, yes, but the lessons learned can also help and encourage others. And that is my hope in sharing some of my thoughts during this time.

This week, I’m reminded of the preciousness of life and how we all experience that preciousness through our relationships on this earth. Have you ever thought about the moments that make up our relationships?

Moments of laughter, of tears, of play, of work, of tension, of relief, of brokenness and blessedness. If you line all those moments up they make up our relationships with one another.

Rhonda and I are in one of those defining moments—a moment of heaviness, yes, but also preciousness.

I feel very contrite in my spirit. The term “broken hearted” feels very real. The Old Testament poet, King David, used the word “downcast.” It’s an apt description.

And what about the weight Rhonda carries now? She must now endure this trauma. And, as we are one flesh, I feel that same deep loss. In the preciousness of this moment, I’m learning that it’s the little things in times of grief that matter most.

She needs me to be there—just holding her hand. It’s the simplest yet most profound gesture I can make for her at this moment.

Our presence matters most to those we love the most. We have to “be there.” And that’s a hard lesson in our world which has filled up with distractions.

We experience a strange richness and beauty when we experience life together. And be it joy or grief, the times together remain precious—they make us who we are.