We don’t typically associate loss with strength. But what if loss was the very path that opened us to a deeper, more powerful experience of God?

In this post, I want to explore the idea of strength through loss—how the Apostle Paul reframed his own story, how our personal struggles can shape ministry, and how even the most painful circumstances can refine our faith. Whether you are navigating emotional, spiritual, or circumstantial loss, my hope is that you’ll find perspective and peace in the looking glass of your own brokenness.

Paul’s Perspective: Losing Religion to Gain Christ

I am no counselor or expert on the subjects of grief or loss, but I have experienced enough to know that loss comes at us in various forms. It is fascinating to see how Paul used the term “loss” in a positive way to reflect the rerouting of his high-performing religious life.

“But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Philippians 3:7–8.

Paul’s personal story reveals what it means to live in the power of Jesus, not our own. In fact, when it came to experiencing Christ’s power through loss, his attitude is bold: “Bring it on!”

What about us? Today, you and I have the opportunity to release some of our religious baggage—our “junked up with performance religiosity”—to truly gain Christ.

How Experiential Loss Pushes Us Forward

Interestingly, even popular culture recognizes the growth that can come from loss. Think of the athlete, broken in tears after falling short in the Championship game, who prepares for the next season with next-level drive. It is loss’s painful emotional depth that often fuels greatness.

When it comes to locating fissures that well up within us to seek higher spiritual things, where does that quality of inner drive and focus come from? It’s not as simple as showing up for another Bible study. Sometimes, God does something big and sweeping to open our eyes and rewire our hearts.

Loss as a Looking Glass: My Personal Reflection

Knowing my inner battles, I have never had a problem with identifying myself as a “sinner.” In mid-life, I went through a searching time that surfaced the brokenness of my wayward heart. Having walked through a struggle with sin and failure, I later coined the phrase: “Loss is a looking glass.”

I was trying to capture the truth that when you experience loss you see things differently, and often it is those deeper-perspectives that we need in navigating life, and also the ones God uses in ministering to others. Oddly, it was when I walked on at Sandals Church, and eventually joined their staff, that I began seeing my brokenness as more asset than liability. Like a kaleidoscope of broken lines, it led to connections and relatability with people at many different experiential levels. I wrote on some of these in my books Soul Whisperer, and also ReMission. Soul Whisperer contains a chapter called “Bridge of Brokenness,” where brokenness is what God used to reveal the gospel.

In this season of my life, I’m experiencing a different kind of loss—circumstantial loss.

My beloved wife, Robin, has a rare cognitive disease called Aphasia (the same diagnosis as actor Bruce Willis). For years, we have been slowly losing her. She is now in what doctors call “late-stage dementia.”

The Slow Waves of Losing a Loved One

I watched a show recently where the counselor asked a grieving client how long it had been since he had lost his wife. His “two months” reply spoke volumes to the counselor. Losing someone to news of stage 4 cancer or a sudden shocking accident, is like getting hit by a tidal wave. Crashing. Overwhelming. Human circuits stretched to the breaking point. In contrast, a loved one being diagnosed with a cognitive disease is like being hit with a big wave, and then a long set of waves spread over an extended length of time.

The first shock wave hits you when a notable memory lapse pops onto the screen. Into the doctor’s office you go. Only to find the MRI and CT scan do not give you the answers you seek. Life goes on. But it’s not normal anymore. Cognitive decline invades everything in the picture, and it progresses. You smile and do the best you can to hold onto life. Normalcy of family and ministry relationships. Trying not to be different or too noticed as to be a distraction from the relationship dynamics that are so important. Yet, the waves keep coming. Another hits. A next deeper stage of mental decline. Another capacity lost for good. Doors closing, never opened again.

Holding on to Grace and Shared Memories

The farther we travel down this road, the more the phrase “loss is a looking glass” finds deeper meaning.

I cannot stop myself from reminiscing—savoring the memories and the beauty of the life God gave us together. Robin is a woman of strong faith. Her trust in Jesus has never wavered. She knows the work of the Cross has secured her place with Him. Praise God for that ultimate victory!

Still, the earthly loss is real and painful. At her last neurology visit, her doctor scheduled a hospice assessment. She’s not there yet. There’s still life in her. But everything feels extreme.

Finding Peace and Strength in Anticipated Loss

I know that one day, “the love of my life” will go home to Jesus. And life and ministry will go on for me and our kids.

In the midst of this anticipatory grief, I’ve found strength in remembering what I can’t lose—the gift of Robin’s expectation.

The Gift of Her Expectation

Robin never lowered the bar for what she believed God could do through me. She had high hopes for our marriage, our ministry, and our lives together. She called me to be my best—and didn’t hold back when I wasn’t. Like a great coach, she challenged me, lifted my spirit, and refused to let me wallow in discouragement. No pity parties allowed. No going in the tank. She would light a fire under me in an instant.

Carrying Her Legacy Forward

I’m not ready to lose her. I don’t think I ever will be. But I’ve come to realize that who she is—her spirit, her calling, her love—will walk with me to the end of my life.

Right now, that gaze—that expectation—is giving me strength. And it’s giving me peace.

Final Reflection: Strength Through Loss

If this reflection on finding strength through loss resonates with you, I’d love to hear your story. Leave a comment below or share this post with someone who’s walking a similar path.

And if you’d like to go deeper, check out the chapter “Bridge of Brokenness” in Soul Whisperer. Sometimes, it’s in our greatest losses that God does His most transformative work.