We have puppies.

I’ve been hesitant to get puppies. Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs, and most other pets to be honest. My go-to complaints have always been that a dog is a lot of work and we don’t have a wealth of free time to begin with. I also argued that having a dog at home when we are often away from home wouldn’t be a good experience for the dog. That argument backfired spectacularly when we purchased two puppies instead of one, so that they would have each other for company.

I was able to put off getting a pet for many years with my daughter. But she is clever and persistent. She desperately wanted a pet. At one point she began to send us pics of hedgehogs. She sent pictures of hedgehogs sitting in muffin tins and on top of sugar cones, like a prickly ball of ice cream. It became clear that her desire for a pet was not going to go away, so rather than being infested with hedgehogs, I began to research various dog breeds. I gave her the puppy that she named Finn on her sixteenth birthday. She was as happy as I had ever seen her. Her joy and tears converted me at that moment, and Finn became a treasured member of our family.

We had never trained a dog before, so Finn wasn’t especially well trained. We cleaned the carpet daily and purchased her favorite cow hooves to chew on (they smell exactly like the manure filled pastures where they formerly walked by the way). Despite all of the challenges and unwelcome smells, it was undeniable that Finn brought us great joy. As crazy as it sounds, she made us a stronger family.

Fast forward a few years and Finn got sick. It seemed like it hit her overnight. One day she was fine and the next day she couldn’t walk across the yard. We took her to the vet and then on to an animal hospital. We found that she had a blood disease and that there was no cure. That evening I joined Makena and Mindi at the hospital to say goodbye. I had spent my life trying to protect Makena from hurt and heartbreak. I believed that she deserved the world, and I figured that protecting her from unnecessary pain was the least I could do.

So, when I walked into the room where she was saying goodbye to Finn and saw how utterly heartbroken she was, I was undone. We shared a family hug after we left the hospital and I broke down completely. I was sad about Finn of course, but I was crushed by my daughter’s pain. She was hurting terribly and there was nothing I could do to help. I felt that I had completely failed her.

Grief takes time, and over the next few weeks her heart healed, slowly but surely. I learned that perhaps I hadn’t failed her as badly as I feared. She was better off for the love she had given to her dog, and for the time they had together. For her, the love and joy of Finn’s life was worth any amount of grief she had to endure at her loss.

C.S. Lewis once wrote, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” A broken heart is always preferable to a cold and calloused one.

Makena eventually got another dog, 50 lbs. of insanity named Loki, a rescue husky. She’s married now and she and her husband have two huskies. She loves them dearly and will no doubt be broken hearted if anything ever happens to them. But she wouldn’t trade the experience for the world. She’s braver than I am, but that’s not news, she always has been.

So, once again, we now have puppies. There will be aggravation and one day (hopefully long from now) broken hearts. But there is also joy and puppy snuggles and my son’s contagious laughter as they all run around in the back yard. It seems that some pains are necessary. Being truly human will mean being broken-hearted at times, but love is always worth the risk.

The post Love Is Worth The Risk first appeared on Michael Ramsey.

My Dad loved to read. He was a picky reader and tended to stick to action books, mostly westerns. Of those, his favorite author was Louis L’Amour. He had most all of L’Amour’s books and read them over and over. I now have his yellowing and tattered collection of paperbacks. I try once a year to go through the box of books and settle on one to read as a way of remembering my Dad. I find comfort in knowing that my hands are holding books that his hands held. This time of year, many of us are looking for ways to deal with the losses we’ve faced along the way.

I spoke with a lady from our church today who, over the years, has lost her husband, brother, and others, all during the Christmas season. She admitted, “I hate to see this season roll around”. She’s not the only one. The holidays are difficult for a lot of people. Some of you are facing your first Christmas without a mom, Dad, grandparent, or child this year. The empty chair at the table can be enough to make us want to cancel Christmas dinner altogether.

Carrying the weight of our losses can quickly become overwhelming. We are tempted to build a wall in our mind and shut off our painful memories. The wall that shuts off those memories, however, doesn’t just close off the painful memories, but many good memories as well. For those of you struggling into this December, here are a couple of tips that might help you remember well:

1)Share your stories with someone else.

Grief feels like a very private thing and in many ways it is. The processing of grief, however, needs to be shared. Tell you stories to someone else. Telling our stories and listening to others share their memories can open us up to important things we have forgotten. Share a story with your spouse. Give you cousin a call. Tell your child a favorite memory that you have of their grandfather. Saying the words out loud has a power that doesn’t exist when our memories are left to bounce around lonely and captive in our mind.

2)Say the obvious out loud.

Everyone at this year’s family get-together knows that grandma is no longer with us. Don’t be afraid to say the words out loud. Everyone is thinking about it, and everyone is missing her. This will often give everyone permission to take a deep breathe, cry a few tears, or share a story. Don’t try to protect people from their pain, rather, create space for them to express it.

3)Don’t allow regrets to take over.

We are all human, and that means that every relationship we have brings its share of regrets.  There are things we wish we hadn’t said and other things we wish we had. It’s easy when we are grieving to become so focused on our regrets that we block out other good memories. You can learn from your regrets, but don’t spend time punishing yourself for things that happened 8 years ago. It’s not something that your loved one would have wanted for you.

4)Stay in the present.

Don’t’ allow your thoughts of the past cause you to miss out on the present. The pain of loss and remembering often demands our attention. Don’t allow those demands cause you to miss out on what’s going on around you this year. There is joy to be had and memories to be made.  Your friends and family need you in the here and now.

I hope this Christmas finds you with only the best memories and that for every tear of sadness, you’ll have several more of joy and laughter.

May you be blessed this Christmas with joy filled memories from the past, and laughter and peace in the present.

The post Dealing With Loss During the Holidays first appeared on Michael Ramsey.