Yesterday was the last day of work for one of my employees. I have employees, did y’all know that? I work at a sportswear company, in which I manage a small customer service team, providing great service to the southeastern states of the US. Becky, one of my customer service representatives, joined my team in July and is now moving to Denver to join her husband in a new adventure which involves an incredible opportunity for them both. As the day came to a close, I realized that I had been going and going and going, in a subconscious effort to take my mind off the fact that she is leaving. Because, you see, I do not appreciate losing things. Who does, right? I can’t say that I have experienced a ton of loss, but I have had my fair share at my ripe old age of twenty-five.
Losing Becky today got me to thinking about loss and why it bothers me so much. I am a person that likes to be in control. No, let me rephrase that. I am a person that likes to know what is coming next. I don’t have to make the decisions, but I like to be in the loop. So, when my 1988 Camaro got totaled in an (obviously) unexpected accident, I was none too happy, my friends. Loss of a posession. Also, when I was on a return trip to Kansas from Mississippi and received a phone call letting me know my beloved grandfather had passed away, I could hardly be consoled. I knew that he was sick, but never expected it to be so soon. Loss of a loved one. And, of course, I wanted to know exactly when that would be. I didn’t even get to see him for the last few months of his life! Just a few short months ago, I experienced about a week of extreme anxiety, including panic attacks, loss of appetite and the inability to work at my job. Loss of control.
As a follower of Christ, I am obligated, nay, commanded to trust Him, to trust my heavenly Father, to believe that He knows what is happening next, ALL THE TIME. Because I am human, I don’t always do this. My mind cannot fathom that my hands are not in control of the world around me. Sometimes, my heart feels as if it has had enough loss. Yet, we all trudge on. We all raise our hands, wide and open, in an offering of submission. Not submission to a dictator or a harsh parent figure, but submission to the One that has created everything good and will continue to protect us and/or see us through the woes of loss.