The older I get, the more I realize that love and pain are inseparable companions. Every person who has ever truly loved something deeply eventually learns this lesson, whether through relationships, children, friendships, family, or even the quiet companionship of a dog sleeping beside them.
Over the last few days, I’ve been watching the old biblical films about Abraham, Jacob, and Joseph while rereading portions of Genesis. Every time I revisit those stories, I notice something new. Not because the Bible changes, but because we do. Life changes us. Loss changes us. Love changes us. Suddenly, stories you once read casually begin to hit differently.
This time, one thing stood out to me more than anything else: The patriarchs loved deeply, and because they loved deeply, they suffered deeply.
Abraham waited most of his life for children. First came Ishmael, a son he genuinely loved. Scripture makes that clear. When God told Abraham that the covenant would come through Isaac, Abraham’s response was not cold or dismissive toward Ishmael. He cried out, “Oh that Ishmael might live before You!” Later, when Sarah demanded that Hagar and Ishmael be sent away, the Bible says the matter was “very grievous” to Abraham because of his son.
Imagine the pain of that moment. An elderly father standing there, knowing he may never see his son again, sending him out into the wilderness with only God’s promise to cling to.
Then later came Isaac, the promised son, and eventually Abraham was asked to place even him on the altar.
Jacob loved Joseph so deeply that when Joseph disappeared, Jacob mourned him for years as if his own heart had been torn out of his chest. David mourned Absalom despite rebellion. .
The Bible never presents love as emotionally safe. It presents love as costly.
And maybe that is why these stories still resonate thousands of years later. The circumstances change, but the emotions do not. Human beings still fear loss. We still attach ourselves to people, memories, relationships, and moments we know we cannot keep forever.
I learned that lesson personally when I lost my little girl Sadie.
To some people, losing a dog sounds small compared to losing a human being. But anyone who has truly loved an animal knows better. Dogs become woven into your routines, your emotional life, your quiet moments, your hardest seasons, and your healing. They sit beside you when nobody else understands what you’re carrying. They love you on your worst days without asking you to explain yourself.
When I lost Sadie, I grieved mercilessly for months. The silence afterward felt unnatural. The routines felt broken. Even now, there are moments when memories still hit unexpectedly. She wasn’t just a pet. She was my therapy dog. She was my working companion. She was my travel buddy. For almost 16 years, we shared in almost everything. Then she was gone.
And now I sit holding Shiloh sometimes, realizing something painful: One day, this too will hurt.
That thought alone is enough to make people guard themselves emotionally. It is tempting to love less deeply simply to avoid the pain later. Many people do exactly that in relationships, friendships, and even their relationship with God. We hold pieces of ourselves back because vulnerability feels dangerous.
But perhaps the pain attached to love does not invalidate love. Perhaps it proves it existed. The depth of grief often reveals the depth of connection. The reason losing someone or something hurts so badly is because they mattered. Because they became part of your life. Because love always leaves fingerprints on the human heart.
And maybe this is one of the deepest truths Scripture teaches us: Real love always requires vulnerability.
God Himself continually loves humanity despite rejection, rebellion, betrayal, and heartbreak. The entire biblical story is built around covenant love that continues despite pain. Love is not weak because it hurts. Love hurts precisely because it is powerful.
Maybe that is part of what makes love sacred in the first place. We choose it knowing it can wound us. We open our hearts to children, spouses, friends, animals, and even God Himself while fully understanding that life in this world is temporary. Yet we love anyway.
And perhaps that willingness to love despite the risk of pain is one of the most divine things about being human.
If this message resonated with you, my books Beyond Blame: Love, Loss, and the Limits People Live Within and Finding Your Transformative Life explore many of these deeper themes surrounding relationships, healing, purpose, faith, and personal growth. Both are available on Amazon.
Troy P Zehnder 