Weaned from Earth

Growth, by necessity, occasions a sense of loss in our lives. As we transition from one stage to another, we come face to face with change, continually letting go of something old for something new. How we learn to cope with these transitions affects not only our life's course going forward, but also our perception of life itself.

Developmental psychology has revealed that all of us, even under the best possible conditions, encounter loss at an early age. This is especially the case when a child is weaned. In more drastic scenarios, when the "loss of accustomed mother love" happens abruptly and without "proper substitution," it can go so far as to lead "to acute infantile depression or to a mild but chronic state of mourning which may give a depressive undertone to the whole remainder of life." But even at the most basic level, transitioning from maternal, milk-fed security is believed to generate "a sense of division and a dim but universal nostalgia for a lost paradise."

~ Quotations from Erik H. Erikson, Identity and the Life Cycle

(New York, 1959; 1980), p. 62.

Imagination might come to our rescue at such a point, but the relief it provides is temporary, a poor substitute for something real. A thought-provoking poem by William Butler Yeats, in which a child is whisked away by fairies into a new world, explores such a theme. Yearning for carefree adventure and untold wonders, a boy is lured by promises of moonlit dances, of chasing "frothy bubbles" and sampling hidden vats of "reddest, stolen cherries," all with "a faery, hand in hand." The "world's more full of weeping than he can understand," and yet -- once he is carried off into his wildest dreams -- the thought of what is left behind hits home:

"Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest...."

~ W. B. Yeats, "The Stolen Child"

We're left asking, Does what is gained truly make up for what is lost?

Loreena McKennitt, "Stolen Child," Nights from the Alhambra

Thankfully, we have a God Who has promised us that our very loss is our gain.

When life, and even our imaginations, fail to provide the wholeness we crave in the midst of our transitions, we can trust that the adventure and wonders of the new life God has promised us in Christ never come short. Constantly He is weaning us, tenderly and gradually, from a world of death and decay and into a world of Life: true security, relationship, intimacy. Jesus calls to us,

"I want you to be all Mine. I am weaning you from other dependencies. Your security rests in Me alone -- not in other people, not in circumstances."  

~ Sarah Young, Jesus Calling for January 21

Ultimately, it is God Who leads and orchestrates our transitions. In our weakness, it is the Lord's strength that carries us through loss and into love. Our joy in the creation is met, instead, in the Creator Himself. For the peace that the world gives, He offers in its place the very Prince of Peace. Without doubt, it is in losing ourselves and the world that we gain the true victory.

And step by step, we come to realize that, though we continue to change, we can never lose the wholeness that only He gives.

"Spirit of God, descend upon my heart;

Wean it from earth, through all its pulses move.

Stoop to my weakness, mighty as Thou art,

And make me love Thee as I ought."

 

~ George Croly, quoted in A. W. Tozer, My Daily Pursuit for January 21

Amen.

~ Sharing God's promise with Three Word Wednesday, Thought-Provoking Thursday, Faith Filled Friday, and The Weekend Brew