I had to make another heart wrenching pet decision last week to put down my beautiful cat, Max.  He was 14 (not that old for a cat), but had stopped eating and was getting weak. It’s almost as if he was telling me that it was time.

Most of you know that I adore all my pets.  They are, indeed, my children, and bring all the joy and frustrations into my life that human children often do.

With the death of my dog, Winnie, only a few months in my rearview mirror, I found myself railing against the reality that I had to go down this heartbreaking road again so soon. I’ve made this painful decision three times in less than two years, and five times in the past decade.  And most of that without Dale by my side.

That led to this conversation with the Almighty, “God, I am SO tired of grieving!”

Anyone else ever feel like this?  Or maybe you’ve tweaked your complaint a bit and bemoaned how tired you are or how much you hurt, physically or emotionally, or “Why can’t we all just get along?”

This is clearly a life that can leave us feeling beat up for a zillion possible reasons.  Sometimes it’s all we can do to get up One. More. Time.

So, why do we?

In light of my recent experience with Max’s death, I’m going to look there first for this week’s lesson.  And then apply the lesson more broadly.

I didn’t get another dog after Winnie died; I’m not getting another cat now that Max is gone.  All because Dale and I agreed years ago that we would eventually start downsizing the number of pets we owned.  Now was the time to do that. 

But I know many people who will never own another pet because the pain of losing them was almost more than they could bear, and they were not willing to go through that again.  So, they remain pet-less for the remainder of their lives.

I don’t question their decision, or berate them for giving up on pets.  With the depth of my pet grief, I completely understand how someone would not want to deliberately subject themselves to that pain ever again.

It’s not where I land, however.  And I know scores of people who willing get another pet … again … knowing full well that their heart is likely to be broken when that hard decision pops up somewhere down the road.

I ask the question again, so why do we?

Even though I’m down to just one dog, Miss Sassy Pants, my hope is that I will always have a dog in my life.  The laughter and companionship they bring to me for a decade or so (I hope) always outweighs the heartache I experience in their deaths.

The simple answer to that question for me is, “Because the depth of my love for them outweighs any pain I will experience in the end.”  I’m not willing to give that up, and I’m willing to suffer because of that decision.

Love overcomes loss.

How do we apply that principle more broadly to all that we suffer through in this life?  How does the picture change when we transition from our love for our pets to God’s love for us?

In short, there’s no comparison.  But practically speaking, especially when we’re dealing with so much heartache, we need to be constantly reminded of what God’s love brings into our broken lives.

In this life, God loves us so deeply that he longs, yes longs, to walk through the pain with us, reminding us that he will never leave us.  And if our hearts are open, we will experience the power of that love as we see him working to make us more like Christ as we walk those hard roads.

And in the next life?  God’s incredible love was displayed on the cross as he sent Jesus to die for our sins, and purchase a perfect eternity when we place our trust in him. 

God’s love conquered loss.

What a beautiful promise from this day forward.  Rest in that knowledge, my friends.

In this the love of God was made manifest among us,

that God sent his only Son into the world,

so that we might live through him.

1 John 4:9