Sunrise, Sunset

“Sunrise, sunset

Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly fly the years

One season following another

Laden with happiness and tears” – Sunrise, Sunset by Jerry Bock and Sheldon Harnick

My dad had a love/hate relationship with this famous “Fiddler on the Roof” song. He respected the wisdom in the lyrics and enjoyed the beauty of the music. But he cried while listening to it and thinking about one day watching his daughters get married. I honestly hadn’t thought about this song since before he died, but it came to my mind today as I thought about the year coming to a close. The sun has set on 2021 and risen on 2022. And it feels like the last few years have both dragged on and flown by, consisting of seasons of joy and pain.

I’ve seen countless posts in the past couple of days encouraging people to reflect on the past year and prepare for the coming new year. As good of an exercise as that can be, I find myself choosing to reflect on a different year. Four years ago, New Years Eve 2017, I was ice skating 100 feet from the beach under thousands of twinkling lights decorating the Hotel Del Coronado and watching the sun set on 2017 over Point Loma in San Diego, California. Mom, Alyssa, and I had dreamt of seeing the hotel lit up like that for years so that was dad’s Christmas gift to the family that year. We left for vacation the day after Christmas and what a vacation it was.

It started off with Alyssa and I having allergic reactions (itchy eyes, burning tongues and lips, you know…the works) to the dog fur the rental car company had neglected to vacuum off of the backseat of our car. Alys and I love Rottweilers, but love can’t conquer the effect their fur has on our bodies. Being the hero of a dad my father was, he dropped us off at the hotel on the mainland and then drove to a sketchy car wash to vacuum the car. A few days later, we drove to Coronado Island to check into the Del and, promptly after getting our room key, dad realized he had lost his wallet. We were off to a great start. Praise the Lord, the front desk called soon after, letting us know someone had turned the wallet in and it was available for him to come pick it up. My poor mom was sick with a virus the entire vacation and I was finishing a round of antibiotics. But you know what I remember most as I think back on it today? Love. The love of a father in making his family’s dream come true.

But for so many years, I’ve felt guilt over that vacation. The guilt that comes with wishing I had done a better job of making the most of every moment with my dad on what would be our last family vacation with him. Instead of remembering the moments like skating by the sea with my dad watching us with a smile on his face. Or walking along the beach each night listening to the waves and looking for snails. Or watching a brilliant sunset at a special spot in San Diego that the locals try to keep secret. Instead of focusing on these moments, for the last few years I’ve let myself feel guilty about a quiet morning that I spent walking around the hotel talking to a guy I was interested in at the time. An hour I could have spent with my dad. At the time, I was astonished by the peace I found walking around waiting for the call. The morning fog was slowly lifting to reveal a beautiful sunny day and there was a hush in the air like anyone who was wandering around the hotel at that time knew that the rising of the sun that morning was a gift from God that needed to be treasured.

I was thinking about that hour again today and I realized something important. It was not an hour I needed to feel guilty about. Because that was normal life. A life of enjoying moments like taking a walk while looking for snails with my dad and moments spent talking with a friend on a quiet morning. Just because that particular hour wasn’t spent with my dad doesn’t mean it wasn’t a blessing. In fact, I’m pretty sure my dad was happy for me as I snuck out of the room before the rest of the family was awake to spend time walking through my favorite hotel, talking with a friend who knew how special that place is.

Normal life. Sometimes it feels like normal life ended when my dad died a little under a year later. But it didn’t. Life keeps going even when you lose someone you love. In those first few days, it almost seems like an insult to you that everyone around you continues with their everyday life activities while you’re just trying to process the pain coursing through your body. And, if you’re a grieving Christian, someone has likely already texted you these verses or stopped you in the church foyer to quote them to you.

“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep.” – 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14

I guarantee the individuals sending you these verses mean to encourage you. And some of them, thankfully, do not yet know the pain of losing someone they love. But despite their good intentions, I know sometimes it can feel like there’s a connotation attached to these verses. An implication that, since our lost loved one knew the Lord and we will see them again some day, somehow the pain should mostly disappear. That we should focus on that truth and use those words to suppress the pain. I felt like this after my dad died and I wrestled with what it looks like to grieve as a Christian. To grieve as someone who feels the pain but doesn’t forget about the hope in Christ Jesus. My grieving brothers and sisters in Christ, please do not do not fall to the temptation of suppressing your pain. The words following these often quoted verses say,

“For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words.” – 1 Thessalonians 4:15-18

“…encourage one another with these words.” In my experience, it’s not happy people who need encouragement. No, it’s those feeling tired, discouraged, sorrowful. Those who are in pain. People who are grieving. Sometimes they’re grieving the loss of a job. Sometimes they’re grieving the loss of their health. But, oftentimes, they’re grieving the loss of someone they love with all of their heart. Notice the present tense of that word, “love.” The love you hold for someone doesn’t die when that person does. It stays with you and it’s directly related to the pain you feel so deeply in your heart and soul. And so we find these verses in scripture, directed at the person wondering how to move forward in life. How to move forward through the pain. Not ignoring or suppressing it. But also not letting it define their life.

Don’t forget that Jesus wept when Lazarus died. He knew He was going to raise him back to life in a matter of minutes, but He still wept. He loved Lazarus and his family. So He grieved, and He did not keep Lazarus’s family and friends from grieving. It’s okay to feel the pain. And when you do, remember that your Savior cares about the pain of His people.

“You have kept count of my tossing; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?” – Psalm 56:8

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” – Psalm 147:3

And we see that He desires to encourage His people in their pain.

“I have said these things to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” – John 16:33

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” – Romans 8:18

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” – Hebrews 4:15-16

“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God Himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.’” – Revelation 21:3-4

Dear believer, run to Christ with your pain and let Him help you ride the seesaw of grief and hope. It is in Him that you will find the balance that is needed for you to move forward. The sun has set on the life you knew with your loved one. But the sun will rise again tomorrow, and the Lord will walk faithfully beside you as you embark on this new life filled with both pain and hope.