Each of us is irreplaceable; each of us can be replaced. Both these statements are true, and both are important for us to remember as we look around at those we love. We know that they, and we, are mortal.

When Moses dies, the people mourn for thirty days. “Then the days of weeping and mourning for Moses were ended” (esv). No doubt they miss him for the remainder of their lives. No doubt some find fault with Joshua, though he too is “full of the spirit of wisdom.” The Israelites have to learn what each of us has to learn again and again: Every death is final. The power and unique effect of Moses’ presence will not happen again.

Thirty days are given for mourning and then, though sorrow remains, it is time for the Israelites to turn their energies to tasks at hand. A harvest has to be gathered; babies are born; young people marry; old people need care. This, for some, is the hardest phase in a season of loss—return of “ordinary” life when ceremonies of commemoration give way to obligations, even those that may seem dreary and unrewarding.

“Behold, I will do a new thing,” (kjv) we read in Isaiah 43:19. We often read Isaiah’s words as an exuberant promise, but we do not always welcome a “new thing.” New things, new leaders, new relationships upset our routines, require new learning, and sometimes disappoint us in ways that compound grief. Faith that is “new every morning” is faith that nevertheless makes ready for the new thing to come and commits the old things to God even while weeping endures. Faith in God's promises turns us toward what God gives, trusting that God provides what we need most even as our hearts still ache.