A bridge from loss to life 

Life has a way of surprising us with both its beauty and its brokenness. We are often caught off guard by loss – the loss of a loved one, a job, a dream, or even a season of life that has come to an end. Loss, when it comes, feels like a deep chasm opening at our feet, leaving us wondering how we will ever find our way across. Yet, the story of the Christian faith is that of a bridge – a bridge built not by human hands but by the sacrificial love of Jesus Christ. It is the bridge that leads from loss to life, from sorrow to hope, from death to resurrection.

When Jesus stood at the tomb of his friend Lazarus, he wept. Those two simple words, "Jesus wept", capture something profound about God's heart towards us. He is not distant or detached from our pain. He enters into it. He stands with us, even when all feels lost. Yet, that moment was not the end of the story. Jesus called Lazarus out of the grave, demonstrating that in him, loss is never the final word. Life is.

Many of us have experienced seasons where it feels like everything familiar and safe has been stripped away. Perhaps you have recently faced bereavement, or maybe you find yourself navigating the silent grief of a hope deferred or a relationship fractured. It is in these moments that we are confronted with the question: where do we turn? The good news is that the bridge to life is not something we have to build ourselves. It has already been built for us, through the cross and resurrection of Jesus.

Jesus said, "I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die." These words are not merely a comfort for the future; they are an invitation for today. In Christ, even in the midst of our losses, we are offered new life. This is not to deny the reality of grief. Grieving is not a sign of weak faith; it is a natural and necessary journey. Jesus himself grieved. But what the Christian faith proclaims is that grief does not have the final say. Love does. Life does. Christ does.

I think of the disciples in those dark days after the crucifixion. Their world had fallen apart. Their hopes in Jesus as the Messiah seemed dashed. Fear and confusion filled their hearts. But then came the morning of resurrection. Jesus stood among them, speaking peace into their fear, hope into their despair, and life into their loss. The bridge from loss to life was not a distant theological concept; it was a Person standing before them, bearing the scars of love and victory.

Today, that same risen Christ meets us where we are. He walks with us through the valley of loss, not rushing us but gently inviting us to trust him. His presence becomes the bridge we walk across. It may feel fragile at first, but step by step, we find that it holds. We discover that his grace is sufficient, his strength made perfect in our weakness.

When we face loss, it is tempting to retreat, to close our hearts in an attempt to protect ourselves from further pain. But the bridge to life requires trust. Trust that even when we do not see the way forward, God is at work. Trust that life, not death, will have the final word. Trust that the God who raised Jesus from the dead is able to bring beauty even from ashes.

If you are standing at the edge of a chasm today, uncertain and weary, hear this: you are not alone. Christ has made a way. He is the Way. He does not promise that the journey will be easy, but he promises to walk it with you. He knows what it is to suffer. He knows what it is to lose. And he knows the victory of life restored.

Hold on. Take the next step, however small it feels. The bridge from loss to life is not a distant hope; it is a present reality, held secure by the One who conquered death itself. And as we walk it, we find that our tears, our stories, even our scars, are not wasted. They become part of the tapestry of redemption that God is weaving in our lives.