“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13, NRSV).

     In her Gold Star Award Winning book, Big Boys Don’t Cry, Malorie Blackman describes the following dialogue:

            “Don’t you know that boys don’t cry?” Adam grinned. “Shall I tell you something I’ve only recently discovered,” I            replied, not attempting to hide the tears rolling down my face and not the least bit ashamed of them. “Boys                   don’t cry, but real men do.”

     Life is filled with gains and losses. Each of us experiences seasons of great joy. At other times our hearts are cast into great depths of sorrow.

     Grief is the human response to loss. No loss is exactly the same. Some mourn the loss of a dream. Others are saddened by the loss of a friendship. Death is the ultimate loss that touches all of us.

     My wife and I recently stood by the bed of her father as he passed into eternity. There wasn’t a dry eye to be found in the room. I even caught the Hospice nurse hopelessly attempting to hold back her tears.

     In our stoic, stuff it and hold-it-in culture, we have been conditioned to hide our sadness. Yet Paul acknowledged that grief in the face of loss is to be expected. Crying is nothing for which any of us should be ashamed.

     The American essayist, Washington Irving, once wrote:
              There is a sacredness in tears. They are not a mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently                  than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition and of                            unspeakable love.

     Shedding tears is not a sign of impotence. Crying, however, is a strong indication that you truly care.

      Grief is an emotion we all share. Yet those who follow Jesus do not grieve as those who have no hope. As Christians, we believe that death may spell the end of this present chapter of a loved one’s life, yet is not the conclusion of that person’s life story. Moreover, the separation from those we love is only temporary because one day we will follow in their steps to the same destination.

     I often tell the following vignette when I officiate a celebration of life service. The dear wife of a friend died years ago of pancreatic cancer. During the calling hours, I traveled to the funeral home to pay my respects. I overheard a woman in front of me offer her condolence by saying:

          “Leonard, I am so sorry for your loss.” To which Leonard replied, “Oh, my dear, you could not be more mistaken.             Esther is not lost. I know where to find her when the time comes.”

     So do you.