When a young person experiences a significant loss, they rarely know how to handle the pain, so many of them run away from it or around it as quickly as they can. In our culture, grief is seen as a temporary weakness. It’s something we must tolerate quickly, no matter the severity of the loss. It’s hoped to be a short period of crying and depression that is to be endured. For some, it’s even taboo. It’s a bit like the stomach flu. Most people feel bad for you but don’t really want to hear all about it or be near you. We would all prefer to avoid it altogether, but that’s so unhealthy.
By avoiding grief, we avoid healing. We don’t deal with these very important things, so we simply cover up wounds. And in time we get infections. Then we cover those up and ignore them. In time, we are a mess, and we wonder why. For some, it stunts their personal growth.

People who experience loss without mourning are stuck in the shallows. They are unwilling to go below the surface of life. They are “puddle-jumpers,” splashing about in the rain, ignoring the storms in their lives (past or present) and in the peoples’ lives around them. They “be-bop” from one fun thing to the next, without examining the matters of the heart that are disturbing or sorrowful.


How many boys have spent hours each day playing basketball in the driveway because they knew that they could one day play in the NBA? How many make it? How many can even reach the simple goal of dunking? I know I tried everything to dunk, only to find that I was just not able, no matter how much I believed, how much I practiced, or how much I learned. I wasn’t good enough to play in college either. I wish someone (or several people) had told me something a lot more truthful, such as, “Quit trying to dunk and spend more time shooting because your only chance at playing in college is as a shooting guard. But don’t count on it, since the odds are extraordinarily stacked against it. Studying is much better for you than playing so much basketball.”
A local radio station brags that they are “Younger. Smarter. Better.” It’s one of many marketing messages that tells us that grown-ups are “Older. Dumber. Inferior.” Well, as a long-time teacher of 12 and 13 year olds, I can tell you that younger is not smarter and better.
