What have you lost in the past five months?

I don’t know the specifics of your answer to that question, but I do know this: you have lost a lot. We all have.

Jesus told us we would have trouble in this world, so God designed us with the ability to cope with loss. It is a process we call grief.

There has been much written about the stages of grief — denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance — and all of it is very accessible through the internet. Instead of focusing on the stages, I want to focus on two other elements vital in grief recovery: time and empathy.
Time

Time heals all wounds. There is a bit of truth in that old cliché, but the fact is, time alone doesn’t heal anything. It is what we do with the time that brings about healing. Time simply provides the space for the healing work to be done. So time doesn’t heal, but healing can’t happen without time.

The pandemic was a global earthquake that rocked our world in March. The initial quake and subsequent shutdown were devastating. At that moment, most of us had a full reservoir of strength that sustained us in the initial crisis and loss. We quickly tapped into those reservoirs, rolled up our sleeves, and got to work. We encouraged and gave and innovated and sacrificed and helped in any way we could. We displayed a fierce determination to overcome.

But again and again, the aftershocks of loss just kept hitting. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month. With mounting losses and no time to grieve and heal, our reservoirs slowly ran dry. We all know what happens when our reservoirs are empty — we start looking for a quick fix or someone to blame. The end result isn’t good.

It’s not hard to identify someone with an empty reservoir. Just listen to what they’re saying:

I can’t do this anymore. I don’t need this. I don’t need them. I’m done. I’m over it. I’m out. I quit.

I hear those phrases more and more as the pandemic wears on. And I must confess, I’ve been talking that way too. My reservoir was pretty deep in March, but after five months of continuous loss, it’s been depleted — and I know it.

None of us are getting the time we need to recover from one loss before the next one hits. Without time to grieve, cheap fixes and blame-shifting are destroying relationships. It’s happening everywhere — between husbands and wives, parents and children, church leaders and congregants, employers and employees, schools and parents, athletes and conferences, politicians and voters — everyone is worn out, on edge, and blaming each other for the mess.

My friends, we need to take time. Time to breathe. Time to think. Time to pray. Time to talk. Time to cry. Time to laugh. Time to rest. Time to exercise. We need to take time to heal and refill. No one can operate on empty. No one.
Empathy

Empathy is also a powerful force in dealing with grief. When your friend is hurting, your presence is the best present you can give.

Loss usually results in a profound sense of loneliness. An empathetic friend provides the reassurance that we are not alone — that someone is with us. An empathetic friend reminds us that we will make it through the darkness. They point us toward the light at the end of the tunnel. They give hope.

Empathy is powerful, and when it is lacking, it is devastating. In the Garden of Eden, Jesus took Peter, James, and John with Him. In His grief, He just couldn’t be alone. Sadly, they didn’t get it. Their lack of empathy deepened His anguish. Later, as He cried out from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” we sense that He is suffering the full anguish of loneliness. Thank goodness for His mother Mary, and John, and the others who stayed with Jesus at the foot of the cross. The heart can bear any grief as long as it knows it is not alone. That is the power of empathy.

But empathy is in short supply these days. Why? Because every person on planet earth is currently walking through their own valley of the shadow of death. No one is on the mountaintop. There is no one available to come down and sit with us in the ashes. No shoulder to cry on. No one able to declare, “You’re going to get through this!” All of humanity is suffering the never-ending aftershocks of loss — and we feel like no one understands or even cares. Worse yet, the lack of empathy is convincing us that our fellow travelers are the enemy. They aren’t the enemy. COVID-19 is the enemy. The only way we will defeat the enemy is by loving and serving each other. That’s our dilemma. How do we pour out empathy on others when our own reservoirs are dry? Is there any hope?
Keep Digging

Friends, there is hope! We just need to keep digging. Listen, if we’re all walking in the valley of the shadow of death, then we’re not alone. Look around! Fellow travelers surround you. Yeah, we’re all bruised and beaten up and exhausted, but we’re in it together. We are not alone.

Please, look around you. You can always find someone who is struggling more than you. Reach out your recently sanitized hand and pull them up. Why? Because you can.

You think your reservoir is empty, but it isn’t. There is a hidden source inside of you. Until now, you didn’t know it existed, but it’s there. It was put in place by God for this very moment. You just need to keep digging. How do I know it’s there?

Well, this isn’t humanity’s first global-crisis rodeo. Our ancestors have walked through the valley of the shadow of death before us. They have shown us the resilience of the indomitable human spirit. If you look carefully, you’ll notice a subtle pathway under your feet left behind by those who have already traveled this way. They did it, and so can we. Take the time to grab ahold of someone’s hand and keep walking. You will quickly discover that the healing power of time and empathy flows equally into the receiver and the giver’s reservoir. We got this. We can do it. With faith, with God, and with each other, we can! So, keep digging!