Join Us Sunday Evening, March 5
Grief is a terrible thing. The word itself makes me sick to my stomach, not because I’ve walked through extensive grief firsthand, but because I’ve seen others walk through it and I know how badly I don’t want to.
It’s been said that the worst part of grief, of losing someone you love, is learning to live without them. The feeling of loss can exist years into the future, and in a sense, it never goes away, not as long as we’re here and they’re not. The question becomes: How do we survive in this new world absent of those we can’t imagine a world without?
Nobody knows that question at the start, but funerals have traditionally been a marker, at least in Western culture, of the beginning of that new, lesser world. It’s an event to remember the gift of life, to say goodbye and mourn the loss, and to look ahead, as it were, in the most profound of ways. I’m no expert in these things, but I can say from personal experience that one of the hardest (strangest?) things about losing my father-in-law a few years ago was that we couldn’t attend the funeral. Melissa was a couple of weeks away from giving birth, so travel halfway across the country was impossible, not to mention that the world locked down the day they buried her dad — Spring 2020. Loss is hard enough. I’m convinced funerals are important.
What we’re doing Sunday evening, March 5 is not a funeral, but it is a marker, and it recognizes a missing piece in the grief of miscarriage. Could we mourn this loss together, in church community, as we do other losses? Could we understand more deeply the heartache of such a broken future? Could we encourage one another of the true hope we have in Jesus, not just for yesterday and today but for all our tomorrows?
Join us on Sunday, March 5, at 5:00pm, as we seek to grieve with hope, for our good and God’s glory.
To learn more about this first-of-its-kind service, listen to Pastor Max exhortation on February 12.
