Complaining Is Not the Answer; It's the Problem

I like to learn new things. New experiences and especially new skills are high on my list of interests. When given an opportunity to learn a new skill that has potential future value, I am almost certain to jump at it. That is why I was more than willing to join the construction crew on my principal's house.
I've had my hand in a few remodeling and construction endeavors over the years. Yet,  there is always more to learn, and--so long as I am paying attention--I can only improve with practice. So of course I said yes. After spending nine months in a classroom doing musical calisthenics (because I am convinced that my students think I'm waving my arms around for my health) I need a change of pace and a new challenge.
And that brings me to where I am today, one month into the project and...holding a bad attitude.
Where did that come from?!
It's hard to say exactly how these grubby worms of internal nastiness come to exist, but there comes a time when your can of worms spills over into a five gallon bucket that everyone can smell. I must admit that when I think back on the proceedings of the last two months I can easily trace the origins and maturation of these negative emotions. Even before we started the project I was looking forward to being done. Yes, I want the work. Yes, I want the experience. However, there are a number of other things I want to be able to focus my time and energy on right now and in the future. Even the faint whispers of other opportunities and projects gives rise to a revolt inside my mind. If there is something else that I want to be doing but I can't do at this time, a part of me will probably blame whatever it is that I am actually doing. Some times it makes sense; not always. But it's too late. The water has been poisoned, and my attitude is in jeopardy.
Next thing you know I start making comments; little statements of discontent; small grumblings. Any talk of extending the wait or any additional inconvenience becomes a mounting catastrophe; an insurmountable injustice.
Now, I know that there are many of you who will not understand this progression of frustration because you don't live in the same world as me. You don't walk through life with the same cares and concerns. And that is just fine. We each have our own burdens to bear. But I know that I am not alone in this. I have met others with similar personalities and common struggles. Additionally, Paul makes it rather clear that there are others like me when he tells us to knock it off:

"Do all things without grumbling or disputing, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world." (Philippians 2:14-15)

You don't have to scroll very far through your facebook feed to find some complaint about something. My job is too hard. My family isn't fair. Our government is wrong about this issue. I don't like my hair. McDonalds put pickles on my burger! If I am going to shine in this world, if I am to stand out from the crowd in a positive way, I must take control of my complaints.
Are there legitimate things to complain about? Absolutely. There are plenty of real issues involving actual injustices and moral degradation. Yet even in these areas there are appropriate and inappropriate ways to air these grievances. But if I allow my life to become a continual rant on the minor irritations of my ever-so-important life, I will not shine the light of God's truth, love, and life in this dark, complaining world.
The fact of the matter is, I know from whence most of these complaints come. They do not come from God. There is another force at work in our world, and he wants us to keep our focus on ourselves. He wants us to develop a mentality wherein we are the most important element of our universe, and our individual desires and comforts are to be the top priority. Jesus also tells us that this other force is out for three things: to steal, kill, and destroy. By encouraging our complaining he effective steals our joy; he kills our eternal life which is found by abiding in God; and he destroys our hope of finding true satisfaction, peace, and purpose in God. By instigating a campaign to improve our own lives, Satan sets us on a course to ruin our own lives.
What makes it worse is that it doesn't stop with me. Complaining is contagious. When we are in an atmosphere of grumbling it can be very hard to keep from grumbling ourselves. I witnessed this first-hand at camp. I was a part of a college-age summer staff wherein we all signed up to serve knowing full well that it involved a lot of hard and dirty work (think 50 toilets weekly and you might begin to understand a portion of the challenge). Within three weeks our summer staff community had already developed a blatantly verbalized distaste for all work that involved restrooms, dish rooms, vacuums, bedrooms, and actually waking up in the morning. We complained about it, and we commiserated over it, and we made ourselves miserable.
Somewhere around week five I finally had a revelation. Didn't I sign up for this? I've done this before and chose to come back for another summer of this exact work. I wanted to come here to serve. Why am I complaining about having to serve? It wasn't easy to change my gut reactions and my perspectives on the work with all the negative talk around me, but I was able to salvage much of the summer. More importantly, I was able to serve with a willing heart and even enjoy it.
So here I am, a month into the summer, doing work that I wanted to do, and I find myself complaining.
God, I need your help to shift my attitude. Help me to seek to serve you in all that I do. Help me to rejoice in you always. Help me to live a life of gratitude in all situations. And help me to share your joy, peace, life, and hope with others as I work.

When the Storms Cause Worry

As some of you may know, for about nine months out of the year I am an educational facilitator of the acoustic arts...I'm a music teacher. When the summer hours arrive I usually turn into something completely different. I am kind of like Jarod from The Pretender (a great show from the late 90's). Okay, maybe not quite, but I have found the opportunity to try my hand at a number of skills and occupations over the years. This summer I have entered the realm of finish carpentry while helping to construct a pseudo log house. The last three weeks have been filled with minor electrical work, building a monstrous staircase, ceiling work, and most recently installing hard-wood floors. This house has more wood than a small forest. It's like you're living in a giant, splotchy tree.
I worked on the same house two summers ago (yes, this house has been in process for the last many summers. That's what happens when teachers are building gigantic tree houses). Two years go we were working on the exterior siding, finishing the roof, and framing the wrap-around porch. It was a lot of work, a lot of heavy lifting, and a lot of hot, summer days on that roof. Today, as I was driving past the construction site on my way to church, I was shocked to find that an entire section of the porch roof had been ripped off and blown away by the storm two nights prior. There in the midst of the great, green, tin, monstrosity was a gaping hole.
In that moment I was struck by two emotional thoughts:
My work has been ripped apart by the brutal and unfeeling savagery of the Montana wilderness. What is the point in all this work if it can be so easily undone in one evening?
and,
Now look at all the work we have to do. We are never going to finish this house. I don't want to go back up on that roof.
Yes, I can become a cynic and a whiner rather abruptly given the right circumstances. I arrived at church in a state of shock and suddenly did not feel like being there. A number of people commented on the destruction because they knew of my connection with the construction and it was a readily available topic for conversation. I don't blame them, but it wasn't exactly pleasant to repeatedly field the question, "So, you have a little extra work to do on the house now, eh?" Yes. Yes, there is more work now.
Everything was building up these feelings of frustration and concern over the completion of this mammoth project. Then I went to Sunday School.
The passage we were discussing this morning was Matthew 6:25-34. These are the words of Jesus in the middle of his sermon "on the mount" where he instructs us not to worry about what we will eat or what we will have to wear. Jesus tells us that God looks after the birds and the flowers, so of course he will look after us. Rather than worry, he tells us to seek the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and the rest will be taken care of.
It was the most interactive Sunday school class I have ever witnessed since I have lived here. As the teacher opened up the discussion for the topic of worry I was surrounded by farmers who were dealing with all the crop damage that the storm caused. This storm wasn't the first to come our way this season either. It seems as though every two to four days we get another storm that drops hail on fields in the area. Here were all these people talking about faith in the midst of worry while dealing with great losses to their very livelihood. I, on the other hand, was worried about a summer project. I technically don't even need the money. It helps, but I could live on my teaching wages through the summer months.
It was as if God was grabbing hold of me and trying to snap me back into his reality. 
Michael, this isn't even a matter of food or clothes for you. Why are you so worried by this? Don't you trust that I have this all in my hand and in my plan? Yes, God. I know you are right, and I know you are present in the midst of all these things. Help me to cast all my cares on you, knowing that you care for me.
So there is work to be done, and we will do it. And yes, all of our work, every bit of it, can be destroyed in a moment by any number disasters or calamities be they natural or otherwise. Even when we prepare for every contingency there is always one more that can undo everything that has been done. That is not our problem. Ours is to do the work of God; to seek his kingdom and his righteousness; to do everything to the glory of God and to have faith that he will take care of us as we need.
And so I echo the words of the man who sought Jesus to heal his demon possessed son, "I believe; help my unbelief."

You Are Not Alone

I survived my first 10K!
A part of me wants to say, "I survived my LAST 10K!" But while that could be true, and I have no intentions of running another, I do not have the power to predict the future. Considering all the variables that go into making crazy and sometimes life changing decisions, it is only fair to recognize that there are a few (very few but still existent) combinations of variables that would result in the repeated occurrence of me running a 10K...Just not any time soon.
It really wasn't a bad experience. The weather was perfect. I had trained sufficiently so that I was able to maintain confidence in my ability to finish all the way to the end. Running with other people also made it more interesting. Here are my observations.
Running with others is motivating. I spent the first two miles running along side a young guy I had just met on the shuttle ride to the starting line. I wasn't trying to race him, but I also didn't want to fall behind. Just keeping up was enough encouragement to push myself forward. After the two-mile mark he dropped back and I was left to run the next three mile loop on my own. No worries. In the words of Joe Banks, "some doors you just have to go through alone." That's life. And all my training had been solo runs anyway. So onward I went.
As I began to near the turnaround point of the loop, other runners started passing me going the other direction. Here I made a decision. I'm not in this for the win, so I might as well have fun and encourage others. I gave a thumbs-up to every runner I passed as a small way of saying, "we've made it this far. You can do this." Since every runner loops back on this mile-and-a-half stretch, I gave a thumbs-up to every single one of them...but not all of them noticed.
Most of the other runners saw my sign of encouragement and reciprocated the sentiment in some form. But there were still a few who probably didn't even know it was happening. I could have been offended--that seems to be a popular response in our society these days--but instead it just made me sad. I wasn't sad that they didn't notice me. I was sad that they missed out on a potentially encouraging and motivating moment in the midst of their trial. 
How did that happen? Why did they miss it? The common factor in each instance was the intensity of their focus. Each and every one of them was so singularly focused on the road in front of them and the goal ahead (or the music in their headphones) that they missed out on the comradery and community around them. They could not be encouraged because all they could see was the trial. That is just what the enemy wants.
Don't get me wrong. Focus and perseverance are very important in both running and life. When we don't have focus we end up all over the place and we find ourselves giving up long before the race is done. If we are going to persevere--which we are called to do repeatedly in scripture--we must keep our focus on the goal. However, like all good things, our enemy has twisted that focus and caused us to believe that if we are to persevere, we must focus on our trial. As I recall, that didn't work out so well for Peter.
When Jesus came walking out to the boat in the middle of the lake during an intense storm Peter decided he was going to join Jesus. He said, "Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." And Jesus did. Peter steps out of the boat with the intention of walking to Jesus, and as a result Peter walked on water. "But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, 'Lord, save me.'" Peter lost sight of the goal and focused on the trial. Those are the moments when fear and doubt slip in and we begin to sink. 
We think that by focusing on the trial we will be able to navigate it and overcome it. We need to focus on the problem in order to find a solution. Yet in our attempts to find our own solutions we miss out on the solutions and comforts that God provides. We find ourselves floundering in the storms of life trying to convince Jesus that we will come to him just as soon as we get this situation all sorted out. 
Often we look at this passage and think, "Peter blew it again. What a dunce. He just can't seem to figure this whole faith thing out." But I have to give Peter some credit. Yes, he lost sight of the goal and took his eyes off Jesus. Yes, he allowed himself to be distracted by the storm. Yet when he found himself sinking, he didn't try to swim for the boat. He didn't try to find his own way out. Peter's first response was turning to Jesus. "Lord, save me." It is a simple prayer, and one that we ought to use far more often instead of trying to find our own solutions. Peter sought Jesus in the midst of his trial, "Lord, save me." And what was Jesus' response? "I'm going to let you flop around for a while to make sure you learn your lesson, you dunce." NO! Matthew tells us, "Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him" (emphasis added). If you want to know how the story ends, you can find it in the gospel of Matthew in chapter 14.
Back to my run. When we focus on our trials we can miss out on God's provisions. One of the greatest ways God has provided for us is by giving us each other. We were not designed to run this race on our own. From the very beginning God knew that it was not good for man to be alone. And from the very beginning our enemy has been trying to separate us, divide us, and get us alone because we are easier to discourage, demoralize, and devour when we do not have the support of the body of Christ to remind us who we are and whose we are. 
The race is long, and the race is hard. But yesterday I discovered that the race is more bearable, more enjoyable, and even more successful when we run it together. So let us look for ways to run with others, to encourage others in the race. And let us be open and ready to receive encouragement from others as we fix our eyes on the goal; a goal which includes community.

Praising God in the Middle of the Race

The day is almost here, folks. I am one week out from running the local 10K. The only part I am looking forward to is the finish line. How magnificent will it feel to be done. I am not looking forward to all the running I am planning on doing in this next week, but no discipline seems pleasant at the time, right? Even the thought of the finish line brings forth a majestic chorus of "praise God from whom all blessings flow..."
Actually, as much as I haven't enjoyed my runs, they have produced a lot of praising God for all the little blessings. It goes a little something like this.

It's the end of a full day of work. You just installed a massive log staircase in a massive log(-looking) house. It is 89.5º F in the shade. For some reason--probably due to mental instability caused by being dropped on your head as an infant, because what else could it possibly be--you insist on running six miles in the glaring sun. And so you begin.

The sun is shining. The birds are singing. The gravel roads are searing hot. Even the roadkill you pass after the first mile-and-a-half smells like perfectly smoked southern BBQ (which makes me wonder where they get their meat for BBQ in the south). The rout isn't complicated. You're heading down a three-mile road and planning on an immediate return trip. By mile two you have taken stock of your surroundings and it feels as though the only circulation of air is an ever so faint northwesterly breeze, if it can even be called that. It is hot, you are tired, but you're insane, so you keep going with not a single hope of finding any relief in your journey. 

The far end of the road approaches, and you brace yourself for the apparent inevitability of losing even the faint whiff of air as you turn around to join the breeze in its southerly expedition. But wait. What's this? Is it possible you miscalculated the wind's trajectory? By what other means could this fresh and heavenly zephyr be explained? Your exhausted body tingles with delight and your weary soul rejoices as with a celestial choir. Praise God from whom ALL blessings flow. Praise Him for breezes here below. Praise Him though you have blist'ry toes. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.
But seriously, why is it that we must periodically be put through difficult, frustrating, and seemingly impossible circumstances before we will acknowledge the little blessings in life. We are told repeatedly in the Bible that we are to be thankful people. There are even some pretty serious consequences for people who will not give God his due in thankfulness for his blessings. The sun shines, the rains fall, and even the breezes blow on the righteous and the wicked alike. The righteous thank God for the warmth of the sun, the nourishment of the rain, and the refreshment of the wind. At the same time the wicked either act as if it is their due, or they grumble that it is too hot, too wet, and it is messing up their hair.
All too often I can find myself falling into the habit of complaining. I may be running the race and persevering in discipline, but I am not enjoying it and I will make my grievances known. Why does the sun have to be so hot? Why can't there be even a hopeful shady cloud in the sky? Why must there be a decided lack of wind? I even come to the point of cynicism wherein I assume that the next turn in the road will mean the end of all refreshment I might have experienced thus far. The worst part is that a small piece of my heart begins to blame God. "You knew I was going for a run. You knew it was going to be a long, arduous, and hot day. Why have YOU abandoned me to this windless misery?"
Truly, one of the greatest blessings of all is that God is still patient with me. When I think of how Job blamed God for afflicting a righteous man such as himself, and how God thoroughly put Job in his place as he responded to Job "out of the storm," I am amazed and humbled and baffled as to why God wouldn't just knock me upside the head for my petty complaints. Instead, he decided to give me a refreshing breeze. It's as if he was saying, "Michael, I know it is hard. I know you don't like it. I know that it seems as if everything is stacked against you. But I am not here to torment you. I may test you for a season, and I may permit the enemy to sift you for a time. But I am always with you. I may not bring you instantly and painlessly to the finish line, but I will give you what you need to make it to the end, and I will run the race with you."
And so, not simply for the refreshment, but especially for the encouragement and the promise, I lift my heart to God in praise.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Praise Him, you creatures here below.
Praise Him above, you heavenly host.
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Amen.

What's Buggin' You?

It's that time of year again. The birds are singing. The flowers are blooming. The flies are pestering. Mosquitoes are the worst offenders. I seem to be one of those people whom mosquitoes find to be a delectable entree. This trait is not at all pleasant for me, but it is a marketable feature on the dating scene. "Want to go for a walk on this delightful summer evening? I promise the mosquitoes won't bother you a bit. They will be too busy feasting on my blood." How romantic.
But the mosquitoes aren't the only pests out there. The air is swarming with a plethora of winged beasts scouring the world over with their compound eyes seeking all whom they may devour. Just today I encountered a house fly in the window above the door to my apartment.
I was on my way out to enjoy a leisurely stroll in the summer sun when I heard the tell-tale buzz of an insect trying to fly through glass. You probably know the sound of which I speak. Zzzz......Zz...Zzzzzzzzzz. There is no doubt in my mind that I will encounter this aural oddity numerous times over the next five or six months.
As I said before, the fly was positioned on the window above my door. As a logical, problem-solving human, I would think that once the door was opened, the breeze was felt, and the unmistakable odors of the out-doors was perceived that the fly would quickly find his way to the opening and meet his freedom. As an experienced, pattern-observing human, I know that the chances of that fly dropping down into the doorway were slim to none. The fly is so focused on the image out the window that he cannot fathom another portal through which he might obtain such a dream. He is set and determined to achieve his vision by transport through that window. In the mean time he misses his chance at true freedom as I open the door to head out for my walk.
I don't know about you, but I can be an awful lot like a dumb fly.
We live in a world of counterfeits. Each and every one of us has been loaded up with dreams and desires. In and of themselves these desires are not at all bad. In fact they are meant to be quite good when they drive us to the appropriate source of satisfaction. But we are a microwave people. We want results, and we want them yesterday. When I'm hungry I want food. Even if I know that I have a lavish, three-course meal of all my favorite foods (yes, I only have three favorites...okay, maybe not) waiting for me at home, I still might eat a package of nutter butters, a snickers bar, and a dr. pepper from the vending machine because I am hungry NOW! Do I even think about the fact that this pseudo meal will ruin my appetite for the wonderful feast that awaits me? Maybe. Maybe not. If I were to think about it, I would probably just go for the snickers bar--because I'm not myself when I'm hungry (that's effective advertising right there).
Ultimately the problem is in me. I feel a desire and I see an immediate solution. Tunnel vision takes over. Yes, there might be better solutions, but this one is right in front of me. It looks so good. The job is perfect. My friends will think I'm cool. She is just so gorgeous. My parents will finally approve of me. I'll be able to do whatever I want. All we see is our desires being satisfied, and that is how the car-salesman gets us.
It's a classic bait-and-switch. He tells us everything we want to hear about how this is the car that will solve all our problems. These are the features that will make driving under any conditions seem like a trip to the Bahamas. It's a dream come true. Then, somewhere along the line, you find out that what you actual purchased was a trip to the Bermuda Triangle. We are promised so much, but we slowly find out that we are given very little.
The only reason we focus on and pursue those ideas and dreams and desires is to achieve some form of satisfaction. What we actually achieve is more emptiness. We find ourselves not satisfied, but even more hungry and hurting. But it did feel kinda good at the moment, right? So maybe if I try it again, that will be enough. And so we continue to buzz at the same window over and over, gazing into a dream world that we cannot reach.
But we can. It's not the world we see through the distorted window that we need. The world that we truly desire is found through the open door right next to us. As I said before, our desires and dreams are not bad. They are wired into us so that they will draw us to the true source of satisfaction. Often times finding true satisfaction means setting aside the opportunities for instant gratification so that we can focus and move forward in the path of righteousness that God has set before us; a path that leads to our most complete fulfillment. Sometimes it means laying down our dreams at the feet of God so that he can fill us with his dream.
If, however, we cannot offer our dreams and our desires to God for him to fulfill, if we will not pull our gaze away from the distorted window that never satisfies, we will end up like so many flies before us, a lifeless carapace in a dusty windowsill.

Runners Remorse

Hey look, two posts in as many weeks. Three weeks from now I'll look at this post and give myself a well-deserved face-palm for not posting again in all that time. (I say that to call myself out before I drop the ball in hopes of goading myself into staying on top of things.)
I'm trying to push myself in a number of ways this summer. Over the last year I have been challenging myself to exercise on a semi-regular basis. A large portion of that exercise has been running. At the start of the year (I tend to think and speak in school years since that is really the only year that actually matters in my life) I was warming up with a little over a half mile. Before too long I had eased myself--as if any of this was easy--into a regular three mile warm up almost every time.
It's hard to push yourself without some kind of goal. Eventually I began considering the local run that takes place in June. I didn't know how long it was, but at least I would have something to work toward. So, here I am looking at the possibility of running 6.2 miles by the middle of June (that's 10 Kilometers for all you actual runners). In the process of preparing for this eventuality two weeks ago I took advantage of some great weather and hit the gravel roads for about five miles on two separate days. This is what I learned.
I still don't enjoy running. For years I've heard runners talk about how great running is, how freeing and relaxing it can be, how wonderful the endorphin kick makes you feel. Well, I'm here to tell you that endorphins lie. Do you know what endorphins are meant to do? They raise your pain threshold. So while you are out there struggling to push your physical limits your endorphins are whispering to your brain, "pay no attention to that dull throb in your legs and the heaving pain in your chest and gut. What's that? Your hands are going numb? I'm sure it's nothing. Just keep going. You'll be fine." LIARS! An hour or two later when the endorphins have retired for the day, your body suddenly starts to feel that pain threshold drop really fast.
Okay, maybe I'm being a bit over dramatic. Although it is pretty much true for the first few times you exercise any group of muscles. After a while the let down isn't quite so painful.
I'll admit that I like the idea of being able to run for miles on end. I like to be able to say that I ran three of four miles. I like knowing that I am in shape to some degree. But I still don't enjoy running. Give me a swimming pool and I'll swim laps any day over running.
The second thing I learned came to me in the first half mile of my second five mile run. As I was jogging along thinking about all the ups and downs of the road and imagining the far off point where I would eventually turn around and begin my return trip, the following thought popped in my head:
Couldn't that turnaround point show up a little sooner? I'm already out here putting in the effort. Shouldn't that be enough? Why should it take forty or fifty minutes. Haven't I put in enough work this year to make this go faster?
If only that was how life really worked. So many things in my life would be totally different right now if the results arrived immediately after the initial effort. How many times have I turned to God to hand over areas of my life to him and expected him to generate changes in those areas within the week, month, or even year. There have been times when those changes have taken place within what I would consider a reasonable or even expedited time frame. But there are so many other areas where I am still waiting, praying, and hoping for God to do something with it. Come on! I'm putting in the effort. I'm out here running the race. Shouldn't that be enough? Can't you see how committed I am and just move the finish line a little closer?
But that is not how running works, and that is not how God works. God knows how far away the finish line is set. He knows that anyone can start a race, though many choose not to (something I am tempted to choose every time I start a run). He knows that the best prize is not for those who put in a great start, but for those who persevere to a humbling finish. That is why, as much as I may at times wish that God would honor my initial effort, my greatest aim is to honor him with my continued and completed submission and service.
The nice thing about submitting to God is that even though the path is fraught with troubles, pains, and frustrations, he also blesses us with tremendous joys, pleasures, and life along the way. I can't say the same about running because endorphins lie.

Good Mourning

Hold on, let me take care of these cobwebs, dust-bunnies, and...how long has that m&m been sitting there. Yeah, I'm not eating that. 
Well, here I am again, hoping that I can fill this space with some regularity. Not that anyone even noticed my lack of  verbose pontification. 
Coming into the end of this school year I have a few projects lined up for the summer. Along with working on building my principal's house, I have signed up for an online grad-level course to fulfill my re-certification credits. Since I haven't been a student in a class in five years, this could be interesting. I hope I still know how to learn stuff. I also hope to do some composing/arranging to prepare for some big things to happen next school year (be afraid, my students, be very afraid...). Add to that a couple small building projects and hopefully some semblance of a social life, and I should have plenty of time to regularly post here...right? Well, I kind of want to make it a goal anyway. 
Today was the graduation of my first freshman class. I have been teaching for four years, so I kind of feel like I graduated today too. Only, just like my own high school graduation, I didn't get to dress up in a funny hat, walk across a stage, and receive a diploma. However, unlike my high school graduation, I will still be here next year. I'm excited about that. I love it here. I love teaching here. I love my students, and I love this community. I am honored to be a part of it. But it is hard to imagine teaching here without those whom I just watched switch their tassels. Over the last week, the last few days, and especially now, I have been in a sort of mourning process over the situation. Because that's what you do when you feel a sense of loss. You mourn.
We don't think about mourning very often because most losses we encounter are minor, or our attachments are small. Certainly we think of mourning when we lose relationships to the eternal transference of death. Over two years ago my tortoise named Digger died. It was the week before Christmas. He had been with me for a grand four months. I wept. 
But we don't equate all death with loss. When I hear on the news that Donna Splinsky passed away I might feel a little sorry for her family, but I do not feel a loss. When my students tell me about the passing of their pet cat I offer my condolences and try to console them, but I do not feel the loss. I do not mourn for that which I do not feel loss. 
When, however, my old pickup of six years was totaled (not my fault) I felt a loss, and I mourned. When I have completed a summer at camp of working with the same people under stressful conditions for three months and I have to say "good bye" I felt a loss, and I mourned. When my super cool watch of two years that had all the perfect features and even had a black background LCD display finally bit the dust I felt loss, and I mourned.
I did not mourn equally for each of these losses. The loss of great friendships built through shared adversity is much greater than the loss of a watch, or even a pickup (though we had a lot of great memories, that pickup and I). So there is loss, yes, but the loss is not the same. Likewise, the mourning is not the same. In the case of the watch I think it was as simple as, "aww, bummer. I really liked that watch. Now I'll need to get another. Oh well, such is life." Done. For the summer friends the mourning could take days, and even continue to impact my life for weeks. 
Whatever the case may be, loss requires mourning. It doesn't have to be super dramatic with dark clothes, unkempt hair, and red, puffy eyes. But when attachments are severed some recognition is necessary.
No one goes through life with the expressed intention of losing things. In fact, we go to great lengths to be sure that we don't have to experience loss. We have safety guidelines and laws to protect our possessions and loved ones. We have drugs, procedures, and life-support systems to prolong life. We have key-chains that beep when we whistle. We don't like losing stuff because it hurts. 
The Buddhist solution is to eliminate all attachment in life, because attachment is the cause of suffering. Some sects of Christianity latched on to a similar line of thought. Seeing that attachment to things in this world tended to distract from our attachment to God, a number of Christians sought solitude and poverty. 
Yet we have been wired for attachment. Our Creator, God, built us in such a way that we long for, crave, and cannot help but stumble upon attachment to things. He built us to be relational in a deep and meaningful way. He designed us to become attached, first and foremost, to himself; to share a relationship so deep and personal that nothing could replace it. Unfortunately, we tried to replace it, and in doing so we created a rift in the relationship. That is the greatest loss mankind has ever experienced. How could the rift ever be repaired? How could a perfect God ever understand the depth of our loss?
It just so happened that God had a plan to accomplish those very things. God joined us as a man. He lived with us, and walked with us, and then he died for us. But more than that, after living a perfect, sinless life, Jesus died a sinners death. He died the way that each and every one of us deserves to die. BUT MORE THAN THAT, in those moments of agony and suffering of his physical body Jesus experienced an agony of the soul that mankind has known for millennia. 
Some believe that Jesus, having taken on himself all the sin of mankind that it could be judged and that we could be justified, in that moment was actually separated from God. There are a great many Christians who believe this; many of whom I respect immensely. If anyone can show me the scriptures that clearly denote such an occurrence, I would gladly accept such a theology. As it is, I have a hard time reconciling God separated from God and then coming back to life by the power of God. I'd be glad to discuss. 
What I have seen in scripture is that in those moments of bearing our sin and our punishment Jesus felt disconnected from the Father. He felt the loss which began with Adam and has continued throughout human history. And in the midst of all the physical suffering it was this sense of loss that Jesus begins to mourn. He is dying on the cross, and yet he mourns the loss of connection with God the Father. Oh, that I would desire connection with God to such an extent. 
In those moments God succeeded in not only mending the rift between man and God, but also in experiencing our loss in that rift. He can understand our longing, and he has provided the satisfaction.
My friends, we are designed to attach. Because of sin that propensity for attachment has been twisted so that we become too attached to the wrong things in the wrong ways. We become attached to money and possessions as if they were our lifelong friends. We become attached to relationships as if they will satisfy our every desire. We become attached to fictional characters in books, movies, and TV shows. We become attached to pets as if they are people. We become attached to food, drink, and other substances. We attach to these things in a search to fulfill that attachment which God intended for himself. That was the first sin, and it has been our most consistent downfall. 
What then shall we do? Should we all become hermits, taking vows of celibacy and poverty? No. We were designed for attachment. God designed us to enjoy all these things: food, friends, family, and frolics. But we must first pursue our attachment to him. And then we must mourn our losses appropriately. If I allow the loss of a watch or a car to take over my life to the extent that I begin to neglect and abuse others, I might be too attached to my stuff. If I allow the loss of a relationship to take over my life so that I begin to neglect and abuse others (including God), I probably had an unhealthy attachment to that relationship. When I fight against losing any of those things in such a way that goes against God or hurts others, I need to reevaluate my attachments. 
Mourning is important because loss is real. But healthy mourning keeps our priorities in perspective. 
Remember, there is one relationship, one attachment that if pursued will never be lost. God is always there for us. He made us to cling to him forever. When we broke that attachment he did the work to repair it. We must cling to him.
Good mourning to you.