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Many people experience what can only be described as an annual appointment with pain.
Every year, when a certain day arrives, the memories associated with those 24 hours come flooding back.
It didn’t have to be this way.
God could have planted us on a rock that hurtles through space around an object so distant that our lives would come and go before we ever returned to the same spot.
Instead, Earth loops around the sun once every 365 days or so. That means that most of us will experience, over a lifetime, dozens of “reunions” with particular events.
Some of those reunions elicit joy.
We love God’s gift of the seasons. This is a rather interesting year, since Memorial Day was just May 25 – the earliest that holiday can happen – and Labor Day will be September 7, which is the latest possible date for that special day. So 2026 is gifting us with the longest possible “summer.”
We eagerly count the days to Thanksgiving and Christmas. We welcome birthdays. Every year we each have a chance to hear others tell us why it was a good thing that we came into the world.
But some anniversaries seem to pound on us like hammers, forcing us to relive past experiences of pain or loss.
The day his heart stopped beating.
The day she told you she no longer wanted to be with you.
The day the military representative and chaplain rang your doorbell.
The day your teenager packed up and moved out without even saying goodbye.
The day the accident happened.
The day you discovered those incriminating texts.
The day your boss said, “Clean out your desk and give me your key.”
The day that should have been a birthday or a wedding or a graduation, but cancer or a drunk driver or an overdose or suicide or an insane act of anger stole your happiness forever.
Or at least it seems to be forever.
Anniversaries return each year, right on schedule.
Counselors suggest that the first year is the hardest. Holidays can be especially painful.
Friends can unintentionally make things worse. They may imply that we ought to be “over this” by now. It’s time to move on. We need to think more positive and constructive thoughts.
Even worse, they may fear that bringing up the subject of a loss – especially the loss of an irreplaceable person – will plunge us into another round of sorrow. In an effort to avoid discomfort, they choose the strategy of silence. Forgetting. Distancing.
But that only multiplies the pain. Remembering often becomes more important with time. Please say his name out loud. Please don’t forget how important she was to me.
Most ancient people believed that time is circular. The same events are endlessly repeated.
The Judeo-Christian tradition, however, introduced a new idea: progress. Situations can actually change. Tomorrow is not predestined to be a repeat of yesterday. Next year can be altogether different.
According to the old saying, time heals all wounds. Unfortunately, time can sometimes make things feel worse.
But God can heal all wounds, if we are willing to let him.
That means anniversaries can be transformed. “Now we see but a poor reflection,” the apostle Paul writes in I Corinthians 13:12, “but then face to face.” He was speaking about the difference between our perceptions in this world and the next.
Sometimes our vision gets clearer even on this side of heaven. We can become increasingly thankful as we see how God has used our pain to open our eyes, deepen our empathy, and soften our hearts.
Is someone you know facing one of those tough anniversaries?
Reach out. Give them a hug. Don’t worry if words fail. Remembering is what matters.
By God’s grace, instead of dreading annual appointments with heart-wrenching memories, we can even begin to welcome them as once-a-year opportunities to thank God for his healing touch.