Oh, my heart is heavy today. We had a rough night last night, my daughter and I. She came to visit us to drop off her “furballs” for the weekend while she travels to the mountains for a business retreat. One furball is her love pup, a twelve pound Morkie, the other a black lab she rescued from a gas station in a state of near starvation. Together they make an E triangle: Erica, Emma, and Esme.
Erica’s dogs love to roam and play on our acreage when they visit; a more spacious environment than their apartment dwelling. We also have two dogs, and the four of them typically roam and play well together.
No sooner had my daughter entered the house when we heard dog chaos outdoors. We ran outside into the growing dusk to find that the rescue dog we had taken in a few months earlier was attacking Erica’s Morkie. It was a chaotic scene! Her black lab cowering behind the porch railing in fear; our brown lab playing protector of the Morkie and trying to wrestle the rescue dog; the attacker clamping her jaws down hard on little Emma and refusing to let go. It was hard to even see Emma in the chaotic scene, but her piercing screams cut to the heart. It was a horrid human / canine battle. In the end, sweet Emma lay on the porch in a puddle of blood as the attack dog was dragged off to secure lockdown.
What followed was an attempt to bathe and dress several deep puncture wounds and to make quick transport to an emergency vet hospital. The prognosis was not good. Abdominal wall rupture, internal bleeding, and expected hip displacement. Surgery was estimated at $7,000 – 10,000 with no promised recovery. It was a very long, tearful night of loving on Emma and saying goodbye. We felt such gratitude to the vet hospital allowing us to stay as long as my daughter needed before they euthanized her puppy. There were many tears shed and many prayers said.
Loss takes many forms…the loss of loved ones, adored pets, health, employment, financial security, relationships, community, etc, all finding expression in my life. Deep loss is always felt on a soul level. It leaves a gaping hole deep within the core of who we are. It leaves us a little hardened to the painful reality of endings and goodbyes. It leaves us dumbfounded as to how the emptiness will ever be filled or replaced.
When the time came to leave, a vet gave us Emma’s body in a cardboard coffin for burial on our acreage, assuring us we had made the right choice. There beside our vehicles
my daughter broke down once more. Again I held her and we cried together. And I prayed. I prayed that all the aching empty places of pain and loss within her would be filled up with the Spirit of God. That the Holy Comforter would touch the depth of her sadness and pain, and minister His presence and peace and love to her. That He would heal the deep down broken places.
For in the midst of our pain and unanswered questions and loss, do we not long for the assurance that God cares for us? Are we not desperate for His comfort and strength in this unwelcome change loss brings?
The good news is He promises to be near to us when we are brokenhearted and crushed in spirit (Psalm 34: 18 NASB). “You keep track of all our sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book (Psalm 56: 8 NLT). He is not only aware of our pain and brokenness, but he promises to heal us in our brokenhearted state and to bind up our wounds. (Psalm 147: 3). He is our merciful Father who helps us in all of our troubles (2 Corinthians 1: 3-4). What a comfort that He actively works his help and healing in our places of inner brokenness.
As my momma heart weighs heavy for my daughter today and I type these reflections, I am aware of agonizing sounds coming from the pasture next door. Some young bulls have arrived at their new home, but are not happy about it. Rather, they’re in deep anguish over being separated from their mothers. They shatter the rural stillness with loud bawling in hopes that she will hear and come to them. Each mournful cry reverberates through my core and reminds me of my daughters anguish at her forced separation with the dog she loved.
These young bulls come alongside the pasture fence that lines our driveway. Perhaps they see our large dog and hope to make an animal connection. As long as our dog looks out towards them, they stand at the fence and bawl loudly. They, too, are experiencing the deep separation of meaningful relationship and are trying to cope with the forced change.
We have experienced the mournful cries of cows in the neighboring pasture on different occasions. Several years ago, a particularly anguished bull propped his forelegs onto the fence and pushed himself over into our yard. He began circling our house in search of his mother, of reconnection, meaning and comfort. My young son was the first to notice, anxiously announcing, “Mom, there’s a cow on our back patio!” Up close, young bulls appear strong and muscular; anguished ones look particularly threatening. But this young bull could not be blamed. He was giving expression to his inner pain, and searching to heal the hurt in his heart.
After several days, bulls acclimate to their new surroundings. They form new allegiances and connections. Not so for us. We struggle with how to accept and cope with loss. Sometimes we bury it deep inside and mask the effects. We may jump fences in search for answers and relief, for ways to heal the emptiness in our hearts, to fill the raw places with wholeness and new meaning.
As people created in the image of God with a soul and spirit, loss is experienced on a deep inner level. We need a Savior to truly rescue us from these lost, empty places and speak into our loss and suffering. Otherwise, we will never heal from their effects. We desperately need to remind ourselves of the wondrous love of our heavenly Father and how greatly He cares for us, to believe that our losses matter deeply to Him. We need to trust that the Spirit of Almighty God desires to fill us with His healing and comfort.
In grappling with unexplainable losses, we can hand over all our cares to Him with the assurance that He cares for us (I Peter 5: 7). In His grace He welcomes us to Himself and gently reveals more of His trustworthiness to us. He calms us by assuring us, “Do not fear for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with my righteous hand (Isaiah 41: 10 NASB). For that is how He loves and cares for His own. Our loss is not lost with the Father.