Loving and Losing

I am going to Willmar (where I grew up) for the first time since my friend Marian passed away in March. Over the past few days, I've been trying to prepare myself for the trip knowing that the reality of her homegoing will more than likely hit me like a ton of bricks. In the past, it was a given that when I was in town a visit to her humble home was a high priority on my list of things to do. We would usually share a meal together (almost always chicken curry) and then spend the rest of our time catching up on eachother's lives, taking a stroll around the neighborhood in the summer, reading an excerpt either from the Message or a devotional book of A.W. Tozer's writings, occasionally watching a Gaither video, and never without fail ending our time in prayer. Now, as I am returning to pack up the last of the belongings that she left for me, the incredible loss of this special friendship is really sinking in. No longer will there be any special meals shared between the two of us, no more words of wisdom to be imparted, no more times of approaching the throne of grace together. I guess I was never really ready for the day that Marian would go Home. Like an innocent child, I thought she would be here forever. Losing those you love really sucks, but having the chance to love in the first place is worth the loss. I have no doubt that my life is incredibly richer because of loving and being loved by Marian. I am reminded of this quote by C.S. Lewis that has had a profound impact on my life:

"There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, imprenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is hell."

I am learning the truth that to love and experience loss is far better than to have not loved at all.