Tag Archives: loss

Life, Loss, And Human Connection


We all experience loss in varying degrees throughout our lives.  Sometimes we lose a person.  Sometimes it is someone of remarkable significance to our lives.  Sometimes we lose our idea of a person.  Sometimes we lose someone while they are still living.  Sometimes we lose a person before they have a chance to be born.  Sometimes death snatches someone from our grasp.

Sometimes we lose something.  Something truly meaningful to us- a job, a relationship, a marriage, a family, a home.  We may lose our faith in ourselves or our confidence in others.  We may lose our affection for someone.  Someone may lose fondness for us.  Sometimes we lose our possessions, our good health, an opportunity, or a skill.  Sometimes we grieve the loss of another’s good opinion, a phase of life, or a particular situation.  We may lose our dignity to abuse.  Sometimes, in the wake of trauma, a piece of our history is lost to us.  In reaction to grief, we may lose a part of ourselves.

No matter.  Loss is Loss.  And in some form, each and every loss affects us.  Our losses affect us at differing levels, on any given day, for as long as we live.  This is true whether or not we can identify the trouble or admit to it.

Sometimes the pain surrounding our loss is evident to all.  It’s conspicuous and loud- maybe even obnoxious.  Sometimes our grief is quiet and obvious to few.  Sometimes we suffer in silence.  Other times we let it all hang out.  But we all suffer.  No one makes this journey without loss.  Without grief.  Without the change that loss entails.

We are in this life together- inextricably intertwined- if only in our minds, our memories.  Our journey’s are our own; and yet we pass one another, we bump into one another, converge at various points along the road.  We’re often gathered at intersections or stopped together in traffic.  Sometimes we are involved in the parade and other times we’re held up by it.  Sometimes we are forced to view an accident.  Sometimes we find ourselves in the middle of the wreck.  We may realize we instigated a pile-up.  We can accept the truth of our relatedness or not.  We can like it or not, we can cooperate with healing or not, but nothing can alter the fact of our wondrous interconnectedness.

The best that we can do is to be patient with one another and ourselves, and to be kind.  We can be committed to honesty, to listening, and to being present.  We can own our mistakes- time and again if necessary.  We can seek forgiveness and we can be forgiving.  We can offer grace- allowing new opportunities for growth.  In Christ, we can practice genuine humility and real compassion.  In Him, we can love in the truest sense.

Copyright 2024.   L.L. Shelton.

Some Grow Small

How is it that you read

Lady Chatterly’s Lover,

And come away simply aroused by a passionate affair?

That you are acquainted with

The Diary of Anne Frank,

And note only the introspections of a young girl becoming familiar with her body?

That you have knowledge of 

Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret,

And are moved merely by the description of menses?

That you read

Huckleberry Finn,

And place your focus on one foul word?

That you study Orwell and are stunned only by illustrations of suffering?

Perhaps you, as Alice, drank a vile potion?

Copyright 2020.   L.L. Shelton.

The Journey Together

For every up there is a down,
For every joy there is a sorrow,
For every life that’s lived,
There comes a no tomorrow.

Bring on your troubles then,
We’ll carry one another,
Until that very end,
We’ll love like we are brothers.

Together count our blessings,
United we will strive,
We’ll learn and in thanksgiving,
As family we’ll thrive.

Copyright 2019.     L.L. Shelton.

My Daddy’s Blanket

This is my daddy’s blanket.
I got it at Lolli’s  house.
My daddy’s in heaven.
Is Joseph in heaven?
Did Daddy see Joseph?
Is Baby Jesus in heaven?
Did Daddy see Baby Jesus?

We snuggle under Daddy’s blanket,
And I wonder at all that I know,
And at all that I don’t know.
I hear his rhythmic breathing.
I hold him, kiss his precious face,
And I marvel at all that we’ve lost,
And at all that we’ve found.

Copyright 2018. L.L. Shelton.

Old Dog

Sometimes you cling to me too tightly,
And I trip over you or I step on your paws.
Your emotionful eyes beseech me to understand
That you, like I, know that our time is limited
And I quickly forgive your often suffocating nearness,
As I turn to memory.

I recall the stormy evening when we met.
Remembering your trembling form so soft and small
Being lifted, transported,
Away from your mother, from your kind,
From the only world you’d ever known
To enter mine.

I recollect the attachment you sculpted with Pig.
I think on how you would bring Pig to me
Wanting me to squeeze the worn stuffed body,
And I would nearly swear,
You giggled to hear it oink;

Oh! The reason-defying ease with which you learned!
To sit, to stay, to fetch and to return…
And to be true.

I remember that you circled the children incessantly,
Demanding they play the part of the farm animals
You longingly wished to herd,
And that in spite of your God-ordained skill-set
You remained faithful to me,
Playing nursemaid to my bountiful blessings instead;

How you frolicked with them in the snow,
Appearing to laugh as they did
In joyous wonder at the crisp gentle beauty of it all,

How you achieved a particular sound,
An alarm you generated when your charges,
Ultimately my own,
Had managed to create a chaos
Beyond even your capable control,

How you played with your underlings
In the clear sparkling fresh water,
Rushing from a summer hose
On a scorching August afternoon,
Issuing your own set of commands…
Hoping to be included, to belong.

I recall how you rarely failed to greet me
And yes, to speak to me,
Immediately upon my return
From anywhere,
Where I had been was not your concern,
Your desire was to celebrate me home.

My affection for you is great, Old Dog,
Causing me to hope for you a soul,
But I know only that God made you,
And that He instructs me to be ever kind to you…
And that, Old Friend, comes easily.

Copyright 2011. L.L. Shelton.

Loss and Remembrance


Will these feelings swallow me whole,
Manage to drown my very soul?
Or will I find to my surprise
Somehow I don’t die inside?

How will I know when they have passed,
Left me here alone at last?
Will it be because I don’t remember
What you looked like last September?

Will I wake up and you won’t be,
That first sweet view in front of me?
And thought of you will not surround
My mind each evening as I lie down?

Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton.

CNN and Other Stupidity

Tonight, as I rapidly walk the treadmill at our local Planet Fitness, I spy a headline from CNN (The self-proclaimed, Central News Network). The headline reads:  Church-goers Saved From the Tornado By the Grace of God.  (Did I fall asleep and wake up in the days of the new Constantine?)

I avoid the news at home because it tends to invigorate me to an unacceptable point.  Also, I am intentionally considerate of my younger children, who I am with nearly always, not wishing to subject them to a constant barrage of suggestions for how they should think about the current events.  I avoid channels allowing commercials for similar reasons.

But I don’t suppose it my right to suggest these same strategies to Planet Fitness to aid their fully adult, and hopefully engaged and thoughtful  patrons.

Now to the original intent of this post- exactly how is it that CNN knows the mind of God so very well? Did He drop in for a quick visit with Ted Turner and explain Himself?

Dear Families and Friends of the eight who were killed due to the storm, please know that Our Bible states plainly that God rains on the just and the unjust and that His thoughts are higher than our thoughts, His ways higher than our ways… please know that He is for every man, though He does specifically bless His saved children with eternal life and many other things.  Many choose to be an enemy of God, but God is the enemy of no man.

In truth, we have no idea why God spared those He spared and took those He took. So what? He is God and we are not.

Please accept the sympathy of this Jesus-loving, church-goer over your loss, and may God be with you to comfort and help you in your tremendous grief.

Copyright 2017.   L.L. Shelton.

Where Evening Fell

One lie too many
Maybe it had to be told
Oh what a shame
Broke the fastidiously
Constructed mold

One dream too many
Standing in your faded gown
Oh what a pain
Pieced together delicately
Watching it all fall down

One day too many
Living against the grain
Oh go ahead
Remain a stranger to me
Bring on the pounding rain.

Copyright 2017. L.L. Shelton.