And then there are those times to mourn...

Sometimes there isn't a reason for change.
Sometimes what we love gets taken away without an explanation.
Things outside our control shift upsetting our rhythm and we are unavoidably interrupted.
Can these things be a blessing?
Is there any point in trying to explain our situation, pain, or grief from loss?

Sometimes we need a reason to cope. I fall into that category 8 times out of 10.
This is one of those two times when I don't want to know. I know I didn't do anything wrong, so as long as there's nothing to fix, I'll be fine.
I don't want to hear about how if this happens, *maybe* this will happen. I don't want to be reminded that I will have things to learn from all of this. I don't want to be told that eventually I'll be happy for the change. I don't even want to be encouraged to move on and forget the loss.

I'm not going to be able to sing at Main Services anymore. I won't even get to go to most 9'o'clock services. It's over. The opportunity is taken away. The decision was made and it affected me in a way that is limiting to my opportunities. We can't make it work. I can't shirk my responsibilities in Student Ministries (nor do I want to). That's how it is. It's done.

My only danger in this is my constant reflex to build walls. This isn't premeditated. I don't even have to try.
Pain!->Wall!
Faster than instant pudding. Faster than instant oatmeal. Than Minute Rice (which ironically takes longer than a minute....).
I have to actively take them down.

I can promise that I will get over the irrational feelings of betrayal. I can promise you that I won't get depressed. I can promise you that my emotions won't guide my actions.
I can also promise you that every Sunday, I'll feel the loss. I can promise you that every accidental email that used to be for me, but isn't anymore... will cause a minor pain in my chest.

If we never enjoy the pain of losing that which we love, how can we possibly know how good it is and how much joy we get from that things that once brought us the joy, and the things that will bring us joy.

I'm not suggesting we wallow, as Loralei Gilmore would advise, but I am suggesting we mourn. Ecclesiates 3:1-8 says ....
"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal;a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh;a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose;a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to tear, and a time to sew;a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate;a time for war, and a time for peace."

Mourning isn't the sin, it's allowing bitterness to seep in, take root and poison your heart.
Ultimately, you quote Job: "You give and take away. Blessed be the name of the Lord."

There is hope for healing and hope for understanding, and room now to dream outside of your plans and to ask God, "What do you want me to do with this time?"
People who go numb can't receive the comfort of God's healing presence that comes their way.
So in light of all of that, I say, "Yes, I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all." (Lady Antebellum)