Change is hard. Change inflicted by loss is even harder. Experience has likely led you to the same conclusions.

Over time, a series of losses can clump up on you, like an out-of-control snowball, adding mass as it rolls along. It's easy to get waylaid by grief. To tally up heartaches, then settle cozily into a cradle of sadness as the list grows.

Mine looks something like this:

•Losing my only sibling, then losing parents after caring for them in home hospice.

•Sacrificing possessions, friends, and familiar surroundings to relocate in retirement.

•Losing a beloved spouse of 30 years, followed by 16 months of torturous court battles.

•Temporary loss of freedom and independence due to health issues.

And on it goes. Just last week, I said goodbye to my feline companion of 19 years, and this household became a very lonely place. Again.

Five days later, I learned of the death of a dearly loved family friend of forty-five years, too late to attend her memorial.

Oh. My. A person could easily get sucked into the quicksand of despair.

So, what do we do? How do we summon the will to tread troubled waters until we've regained the strength to swim back to shore?

Well, first you pray—pray your little heart out. The strength and peace which flow from a compassionate God's response to sincere prayer is nothing short of miraculous.

Then maybe you write about it, or talk about it, asking others to chime in with their own recipes for coping.

I also found it helpful to revisit the Blessings Jar I started on January 1, 2021.

January 2: A brisk 26 degrees, but radiant sunshine warms the spirit, making for a joyous midday power walk.

January 3: Sharing giggles with [my young pew companion] Naomi in church this morning.

January 4: Naomi joins me for a taco lunch and cookie-baking—sweet fun with my sweet little friend!

January 5: Thankful today for access to quality-of-life-enhancing medications.

January 6: Good food, good health, and a willful revival of hope—all help quell the specter of depression that can creep out of the darkness of a frigid post-Christmas evening.

January 7: Today I thank God for blueberries in winter!

January 8: I am so privileged to benefit from the generous spirit of helpful, supportive friends and in-laws—the very essence of my sense of earthly well-being.

There were a few more scattered "deposits" in my 2021 Blessings Jar over that first month, before the resolution fizzled, but none could match the life-saving medical care I got toward the end of that year. And no hastily scribbled words could fully describe the uncountable acts of kindness that bathed me in light during my darkest moments.

Properly humbled and newly inspired, I hereby pledge to take up the Blessings Jar project with renewed zeal.

And I have to ask, a la Karl Malden . . . What's in your Blessings Jar?