Each spring in Texas, mourning doves make nests and lay eggs. One nest is in our hanging planter at the house (cushy) and one is over an outdoor light at the church (warm.) After noticing this phenomenon for the past few years, I have come to know how seldom this process yields a baby bird. The 2 babies at the house this year died in the abnormally cold spring we had. The egg over the church light was knocked over by the mother flying from the nest. Something similar has happened in all but one occasion when 2 babies wound up on my patio until they could fly. Christine and I protected them from other critters.
I am not an ornithologist. But I suspect that the mother birds just “move on” until the next time. It did not work this time but do it enough times and the species will survive.
Not so with humans. Memories and longings, both children of Love, keep “business as usual” at bay we humans.
Someone in your life is mourning. Maybe, it is you. Let them know it is okay. Listen to their stories even if you already have heard them. I have observed that we expect people to “get on with it” when the casseroles dry up (usually 10 days after a death.) I have mourned things for years. Many of us mourn things that do not merit a casserole (or much attention) – a job loss, a move, a broken friendship, a divorce, an empty-nest, an unanswered prayer. Being human is hard.
Jesus wept. John 11:35 (NIV)