Love is an exotic goldfish

My daughter has been asking for a pet for over a year now, and the time had finally come, dear Reader. We made the mistake of telling her on the Friday that we were going to get her a fish that weekend. Mistake, you ask? Why was that a mistake? Because we heard about nothing else for the next 24 hours. Here’s a parental tip: Do not announce anything until the very last minute – that is, if you want to retain your sanity. We woke up the next morning around 5 a.m. And the first thing our little girl asked of us was: “Can we go get the fish now?” She’s nothing if not persistent.

So, at 9 o’clock, when the pet store opened, there we were, looking at a wall of goldfish. And perhaps I made a mistake, because I gestured to the wall and told her to pick, not knowing that some of these goldfish were borne from sacred lakes and pools we know not of. So naturally, my daughter chose the most expensive goldfish they had, an exotic with two tails and the most beautiful colouring. I mean, of course, she did. She likes the finer things. She held that little bag housing “Goldy” so close to her chest and gave out a “Squeeeeeee!” of excitement.

Fast forward a few hours, and Goldy had started to do a neat little trick. She was swimming belly up and looking a little peeky. And while we hoped for the best, sadly, a few hours later, we discovered that Goldy didn’t make it. We had to wake up our little girl and tell her the sad news, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget that heartbroken cry. My daughter’s heart was shattered for a fish we didn’t have that morning. And mine was shattered for her. How incredible it is that she got so attached so quickly. The next morning, we ventured out to get Goldy 2.0. But as I watched her over the next few days, something had changed. She was not nearly as attached to this Goldy as she was to Goldy the 1st. She had learned what we all learn. You cannot love without risk. To trust, to give your heart to something, means you risk disappointment, heartbreak and grief. But the joy of connection, and the memories that go with it, can’t be had any other way.

In the last few years, I’ve seen my fair share of loss, and I wish I could say it hasn’t left me somewhat jaded. I’ve lost family. A number of close friends have emigrated. My wife and I had to come to terms with infertility. But you know what, the truth of life is that we will all lose something or someone dear to us at some point. Loss is not a respecter of persons. And when that happens, we get to choose what we do with our hearts. Do we close them off from future hope and future relationships? Or do we choose to do the harder thing? To do the work of keeping our hearts clean and open.

I’ve known friends who have had the unforgivable done to them, and when it came down to it, they’ve chosen love. And to be in their presence was to be in the presence of peace. Because make no mistake, when we choose to harden our hearts, that inward choice turns outward.

Scripture says that “out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.” What is the overflow of your heart at the moment? Have you kept it clean?

The Good News is that God and time (and sometimes therapy) can help us do just that. God wants us to have clean hearts. In fact, in Psalm 51:10, the Psalmist’s prayer is this: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me.” Are you willing to invite God into your hurt and mess, and let Him soften your heart again? I know it can be scary. But we serve a gentle God who wants to lovingly restore our hearts as only He can.

Time. Sometimes, grief takes time. Once Auri, our daughter, learned that Goldy no. 2 wasn’t going anywhere, she opened up her heart and learned to love again. Now, she gives Goldy goodbye kisses (on the bowl) every morning before leaving for school and feeds her diligently (albeit a bit too much at times). In the same way, sometimes we need time for our hearts to heal when we’ve lost those close to us. And that’s OK. But don’t let what you’ve lost become all that you are and will be. Don’t let it keep you from new relationships, from loving again, and from being open to what God wants to do in your life.

Lastly, some losses are too big to work through on our own. I’ve known people who wear their loss like a badge, and in time, it becomes who they are. And they carry that loss into every room with them. If you are not healing, and again, I don’t mean overnight, but if you are not managing to work through your grief on your own, get help. And can I just say that almost no one I’ve ever met has managed to work through their grief completely alone. There’s no “moving on” when it comes to losing someone you love. They will always have a space in your heart and your life that is just theirs. But it’s amazing how God can open up new spaces for new relationships, new friendships. And these new spaces don’t replace; they exist alongside. If you’re struggling to make room, either because you are afraid of losing again, of being hurt or simply feel like it’s too hard to put yourself out there again, please consider getting help to take your first/next step. There is a richness, a fullness of joy that you are missing out on if you don’t.

I want to be like my daughter. When I lose, I want to acknowledge the loss, I want to grieve, and then I want to love again. And I want her to see in me that no matter what I lose in this life, with God and the love of those around me, I can keep pursuing love and connection. I want her to see it in me, because it’s what I want for her.

How about you, dear Reader? How’s your heart?