Grief & Love
Love empties and fills your heart
Grief
Grief is to the measure of the love you have in your heart.
Dr. Kevin Ham
Kona, our adorable, loving puppy, looked longingly at me for a pet on the head. It was one of the highlights of my day to pet her on the head. That evening, it was just her and me. I pet her a little longer before I prepared to head to a church meeting last Wednesday.
When I arrived at church, I saw a text on my phone from my daughter. “I’m so sorry everyone. Kona was hit by a car. She didn’t make it. I’m so sorry.” My heart stopped. What? Stunned, I called my daughter. She was too upset to talk, just tears.
Then, photos of Kona were shared by the kids.
O My Heart
Oh this ache in my heart, inexpressible and irremovable!
Dr. Kevin Ham
When I saw Enoki, our older dog, the next morning, I could not help the tears bottled up in my heart to rush out as I held him tight, saying, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Enoki.” When I let the two dogs out of their room, Kona would immediately be kissing and playing with Enoki and eagerly awaiting our morning walk.
That morning walk was very different. When I saw Kona’s leash at the door, tears welled up again. When Enoki pooped, I thought, I would give anything to be able to pick up Kona’s poop again. I had vowed that when we first got Enoki, I would never walk him and especially never pick up his poop. And here I was … wishing I could pick up poop. When I got home, I had to write the inexpressible feelings in my heart, and so while I was planning to write about Reversing Diabetes this week, I decided to write about what is in my heart to help my heart heal from the sudden loss and void left by our puppy.
How can a puppy fill a part of our hearts so much? This is what amazed me most.
Pride
The swell of pride is the invisible water that floods our hearts and spills over into our lives, as we feel that we have risen high above the world and others.
Dr. Kevin Ham
Right before I left the house, I looked at all that I have been blessed with and felt such overwhelming gratitude to God for such wonderful blessings. I looked to the heavens and prayed silently, “God, all that I have has come from You, and all that I have is for You. Thank you. Let me honour You and praise You for the days You give me on this amazing Earth.”
Reflecting on the past week, I realized that at that moment, the above prayer was in my heart. I had felt like I had reached a great pinnacle in my life: my heart was open, full of joy, love, and peace, open to whatever God would send my way. I have pondered, if while I felt I was at my humblest moment in life, when I prayed to God at that time, when God looked into my heart, did He see selfish pride? I had been reading and studying how even the good Kings of Judah lifted their hearts in pride before both men and God and fell deep into sin, disease, war or death. I wondered how a king so blessed could suddenly fall.
Before destruction a man's heart is haughty,
But humility comes before honor.
Proverbs 18:12
Right after I read the text, my first response was a curse word, which I hardly ever say, and my fists slamming against the countertop, asking, “Why?” Part denial and disbelief, part shock, and part anger. Grief had started to pierce my heart. Was I proud and haughty in my heart or was I humble? What does it mean to be humble?
Love
Without love, the world stops spinning and my heart stops beating.
Dr. Kevin Ham
The greatest humility is the heart that is in love. For love, what would you do for someone you love? What would you not do? Paul writes of this perfect love. It is often recited at weddings.
“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”
Love never ends. But the things and people we love … they will come to an end someday. The love never ends, but the object of our love can and will. In that moment of loss of love, an emptiness, a hole that feels like a black hole, draws in every emotion of your humanity into that void.
Filling that void is the wound from the piercing revelation of the sword that the thing you loved or the person you have been so accustomed to in your life is now gone.
There is sage advice to live each day like it’s your last day. YOLO (You Only Live Once). I’ve also heard that you should treat each person as if it's the last time you might see them again. Just imagine if we were able to live with this heart.
I reflected on my grief. For instance, when I lose material things I love, or when I lose large sums of money, versus when I lose people I love, like my mother, my relatives, my friends. The closer and deeper the love is, the more the grief. To remind ourselves of our loved ones, we set up memorials and images. And if we are fearful, we bury everything so that we are not reminded of the deep loves of our lives.
Express Your Heart
While the feelings of the heart are inexpressible, they still need to be pumped out as they wallow around in your heart.
Dr. Kevin Ham
I like to process my feelings and my thoughts by writing. And so I wrote that next morning with tears streaming down my face. I’d like to share it with you.
Grief & Love
To Kona, our beloved puppy, whose love and joy were boundless.
Love is boundless, yet it lives within the many fragmented chambers of our hearts.
When we see the wholesome and limitless love of God reflected in people, pets, and nature, our hearts cannot help but open wide to receive it endlessly.
Grief is always in proportion to love. Its depth only matches the depth of the love that carved it into our hearts.
The measure of grief, when turned inside out, becomes gratitude — for the time we shared with those we loved, for the memories that remain, and for the wish that we had more time together. Such love fuels our hearts for the rest of our days.
Grief arrives in stages: shock and disbelief, anger and regret, sadness and loss. Then it turns outward into affection for those still around us, followed by gratitude for what we once had — and what we still hold now.
In grief, we feel powerless. Loss robs us of control, leaving us overwhelmed. Memories return in waves — sometimes we hold them tighter, other times they slip beyond our reach.
We search for reason, purpose, and meaning. Sometimes answers stay hidden. Sometimes they spark new life, birthing new purpose from pain.
One must let the heart grieve and express. That is why we hold ceremonies — not only for closure, but also to honour love and to release grief.
In this life, loss is inevitable. It is what makes each moment so precious. Every day is a gift — even a day of sorrow, for only hearts that truly know grief can fully see and embrace joy.
As Proverbs reminds us:
“Whoever is righteous has regard for the life of his beast, but the mercy of the wicked is cruel.”
Mercy is love. Mercy is compassion.
A dear friend, Dr. Azra Raza, told me that in Islam, the death of a beloved animal spares its owner from a greater misfortune. My neighbour Tamara said the same; in Russia and Ukraine, the death of one’s animal means she spared us from some bad event.
I thought of the animal sacrificed to clothe Adam and Eve with garments of skin to spare them from death, and of the lambs that died for the sake of people’s sins. And then, with tears streaming down my face, I thought of the greatest sacrifice of all:
“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” — John 1:29
In this short time we have on earth, grief itself becomes the vessel that holds our deepest love, dreams, and compassion. When we reflect, we find this reservoir of love is boundless. It is with this heart that we must continue each day — with gratitude, with love, with joy.
For it is truly better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
We will forever miss you, Kona. We will forever love you and remember you. Each day, we will carry the love you gave us, and we will love others as you loved us.
In much love is much grief.
In much grief is much wisdom.
In much wisdom is much life.
From your beloved Ham Family
Reflection
Grief allows you to pour out your heart in love and gratitude, after the inflamed wounds of disbelief, anger, and regrets calm down in your heart.
Dr. Kevin Ham
Losing Kona so young has broken my heart — not only for me, but for my children who lost their special joy. Kona was not just a pet. She was family.
I even saw tears streaming down my 90-year-old father’s face. Kona had also touched his heart deeply. She was so small, but her heart and energy were boundless.
I kept remembering what Azra and Tamara told me. Then, the shortest verse in the Bible struck me anew:
“Jesus wept.”
The Son of God moved with compassion at the death of Lazarus and the grief of his family. Compassion for the poor, the sick, the blind, the widows, and the outcast. Compassion even for Jerusalem itself, which would reject him and have him nailed to the cross:
“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem… how often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”
The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Including mine.
As I think of Kona, I remember how she loved to chase cars. We always held her back on her leash, but that day she was free. A white Range Rover sped past, and she ran in front of it…
Was she sparing us from some greater harm? Perhaps. The thought brings a little comfort. In that moment, I also realized how often I, too, have rushed headlong toward danger.
Just days earlier, on September 6, I had foolishly ridden the Whistler Gran Fondo — 122 km with 2,000m of elevation — through wildfire smoke measuring 73 ppm. Advisories warned against even light outdoor activity, yet I rode on, knowing my heart vessel is 77% blocked, my heart beating and circulating this smoky air for just over four hours. I told myself I was being careful, holding back, but in truth, I was being reckless.
I was humbled. What I thought was a strength was actually a weakness. What I thought was wisdom was actually folly.
And so I resolve to walk by faith, not by sight.
“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten before God. Even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many sparrows.”
If God does not forget the sparrows, He surely knows how much Kona meant to us. And though we may not understand why now, there must be a greater purpose we do not yet see.
Kona has left a void in our hearts. It will take time to grieve and heal. I pray God will fill that space with His own joy, wisdom and love, uniting us as one heart, one mind, one body — and drawing us closer to Him.
God, have mercy on her soul. And have mercy on ours, too.
Ceremonies
Ceremonies allow you to move to the next phase of your life either as a foundation, a step, or to allow you to move on and reflect upon and honour what you are leaving behind, without being held back.
Dr. Kevin Ham
Ceremony to process grief and love is also important. It is the reason why we have engagements, weddings, graduations and funerals. Think about the ceremonies you have in your life. With each ceremony, you leave something behind while entering a new phase of your life. That gap is the wilderness that you must traverse to the next journey of your life.
We will have a memorial so that our family can express the grief and love in our hearts this Saturday.
Life-Changing Question
Who should you be grateful for today and each coming day?
Let them know by a hug, a phone call, a text, an email today.
Next week—
Reversing Diabetes in 3 months
Diabetes is even easier to reverse than heart disease.
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