Healing After Loss

FEBRUARY 26

Again rises from the heart of suffering the ancient cry,

O God, why? O God, how long?

And the cry is met with silence.

—JIM COTTER

Some days we seem to be managing pretty well, confident
we can face the future. There are other days—and
nights—when we feel utterly abandoned, left in a dark room
alone, when the universe seems a vast and unfriendly place.
It is hard to remember that we ever felt any other way, or
believe we’ll ever feel better again. Truly we have entered
upon “the dark night of the soul.” Does it help to know that
over the centuries this despair has been shared by many,
that even in this desolation we have the company of saints
and pilgrims, a myriad of fellow sufferers? For even as our
pain is particular to us alone, even as our loved one was
unique in all the world, perhaps we can rest back—just a
little—on the knowledge that multitudes in the human
family have walked where we walk.
While there are things we can do to be ready for a
brighter time—get enough rest, eat properly, read, pray,
talk with people—the prevailing wisdom seems to be that
such dark nights are simply to be endured, waited out. They
will not last forever. And one day—perhaps as a sur-
prise—we will realize the cloud has lifted.

If I am feeling down today, it doesn’t mean I will forever.