Rings of life

Have you ever looked at a log and thought about the growth rings? What causes some to be darker than others? Why are some thicker and others thinner? Why do some areas seem smooth and others bumpy?
Without getting into the nerdy science bits, there are a number of things that affect those rings. The temperature. The amount of rain. Potential abuse to the tree. There are numerous factors impacting the growth rings that develop over the years. Rings which determine the strength, shape, and size of the tree as it grows.

What shapes the growth rings in our lives?

This week I spoke to a friend whose daughter lost her best friend in a tragic car accident. While I cannot directly relate to her experience, discussing this situation reminded me of my mom's death in a car accident almost 19 years ago.
I imagine that in this moment, that young lady can't picture the rest of her life without this friend. I am sure they spent countless hours together and her unexpected death has created a huge hole in her life. I have struggled over the last few days about what to say. I am so weary of the standard fare people offer. "She is in a better place." "God needed her more than we do." Those kind of responses are what I call theological BS and are often sincere attempts to explain something that cannot be explained.

So as I have wrestled with what to say, for now I know there is little to say. In the moments and days following a loss like this, the best thing to do is be present. This requires us to embrace the uncomfortable silence and focus on being instead of saying or doing.
But when the time is right, this is what I think I would say to this grieving young lady...

Every year, every day, every moment is a season. In those seasons people will come and go. They may be very close to us today but far less present or even absent in the future. When this happens in the natural ebbs and flows of life we often barely notice it. But when it happens in an instant, outside the realm of natural progression, it hurts like hell. It cuts us deeply and leaves us feeling hopeless and helpless. It causes us to question what we believe and often results in anger towards God, other people, and even ourselves.
Reflecting on the nineteen years since my mom's death, the three years since my dad's death, and a number of other tragic deaths I have experienced, I have learned this...

Like a tree, we have rings of growth that develop throughout our life. Some are smooth and thick. Other have bumps and are thinner. The experiences of our life determine what those rings look like and how they strengthen and shape us as we grow.
What I would want to tell this you is that you will always have a scar in this growth ring. You will never completely forget the pain of a friend ripped away far too young. You will always remember her and the impact she had on your life.
But I also have experienced that over time you will focus less on the pain and scars and more on the strength your friend brought you in the rings proceeding the scar. You will rejoice in the memories as you grieve the shared moments you never had a chance to experience. You will laugh as you cry. And you will be thankful for the ways this friend impacted your life while she was with you. You will learn that although no one will ever replace her, others will come into your life to offer strength and shape to the growth rings that you have not yet developed. Your friend may no longer stand beside you, but her impact will always live within you.