My sister in law had heart surgery yesterday. Serious. Possibly critical. My mind, emotions became heavy right away. Nancy and I were facing the possibility of great loss. Tragedy.
This was unexpected. We’d experienced loss with, through friends. “Oh no, did you hear about —-?!” “ I feel so for —.” Truly concerned. But from a bit of distance. Not us. We usually, eventually moved on with our daily lives. It wasn’t us … wasn’t within our family. You know the feeling. Just a human thing to move on.

My sister in law’s condition was poignant. So intense. This might be our loss. Our tragedy. What a difference. Naturally so. We all experience loss in life. Athletics.. A test at school. Rejection of a friend. But loss of a loved one? Acutely hurtful, painful. But also a wake up call. One version of the book of Corinthians cites “the gifts of the spirit.” Love, charity, other positive ones too. But one that struck me. Has stayed with me for a very long time. The gift of “long suffering.” I always saw this as odd. How could “long suffering” be a gift? But over the years, as I’ve experienced loss, I get it. Without loss we would never know what joy is. In this way loss … “long suffering” is a gift.

Did this help me process what my my sister in law was experiencing? Not much. You have to truly feel suffering. Make it real. Or it cannot be the gift God intended it to be. Paradoxical for sure. Losses in life will grow in number. In your 70s this is an absolute. Illness, incapacity, mental, health decline. Maybe me. Maybe Nance? Maybe. Can one prepare for it? Can I?

I try. This is how. Writing this piece prepares me. Praying for strength prepares me. Believing in life hereafter prepares me. A form of spiritual exercise. I believe I’ll be called to be support for my family members, friends when loss inevitably arrives. Even think about eulogies I might be asked to deliver. Remember those I have delivered.

Then there is preparation that’s less clear.
Loving while here. Loving others wherever, whenever I can. Everyone I encounter. How does this work? Loving builds my capacity to process loss.
Builds a reservoir of love inside me. A kind of buffer. Not to avoid loss … or the intense feelings that come with it. The words above fill me with love so I can reach out to others when they experience loss. Let the gift of “suffering” flow through them. Important.

My sister in law came through her four hour of surgery successfully. A blessing. But when we learned she was seriously ill, I felt the well, the reservoir of love within me start rising to the surface. I started tearing. Realizing my call to support, love my wife. Reach out to my relatives. Help them process their loss. Not alleviate it. More help them accept, receive their suffering as the gift it is.