I love relationships. I cherish them deeply. I have always been someone who never wants to lose a relationship.

Once I begin a relationship with someone, it is my heart's desire that it should endure. Even as the years pass, places change, and life's circumstances shift, I long for those relationships to remain unchanged.

I do not want relationships to be mere acquaintances or occasional exchanges of greetings. I want them to enrich our lives—to be sources of comfort, support, encouragement, and mutual benefit.

But not every relationship in my life has endured that way.

Some relationships came to an end halfway through the journey. Some gradually weakened. Others broke apart. Still others disappeared so quietly that I do not even know when, how, or why they were lost.

Not all these relationships ended because of hostility or bitterness. Some simply faded away without an argument, a disagreement, or even a farewell.

During my 42 years of Christian life, there have been many people whom I have nurtured spiritually in Christ. I have walked alongside them for many years, cared about their earthly needs and spiritual growth, stood with them through difficulties and crises, and willingly shared with them the resources God entrusted to me.

Yet today, I am no longer in contact with them.

For someone who values relationships as deeply as I do, this is painful. But through these experiences, the Lord has taught me many lessons—not only about relationships, but also about myself.

1. Life Changes, and Relationships Change with It

I have travelled a long way through life. The distance still ahead of me is relatively short. But those whom I nurtured in Christ still have a long journey before them, with many burdens to carry.

Family, children, education, employment, marriage, housing, financial needs, transportation, health, and concerns about the future—so many responsibilities!

I do not face the same degree of pressures and problems. Therefore, I understand their circumstances.

At every stage of life, needs change. Responsibilities change. Priorities change. Something that was important at one stage may not carry the same importance at another.

These changes are not merely inevitable; they are also necessary for growth.

The place parents occupy in a child's life is not exactly the same once that child grows up and establishes a family. Does that mean the love has disappeared?

Similar changes occur in spiritual relationships.

Those who once frequently sought my counsel and guidance may now have matured enough to make their own decisions. New responsibilities and new relationships may have entered their lives.

I accept that.

Paul writes, "When I became a man, I put away childish things" (1 Corinthians 13:11). As we mature, our thinking, needs, and priorities change. I now understand that these changes may also alter the nature of our relationships.

Understanding this led me to another question about my relationships.

2. My Place in the Hearts of Others

Because I consider someone important in my life, can I assume that person will consider me equally important in theirs? Because I give someone a significant place in my life, can I expect to occupy a similar place in theirs?

Not necessarily.

The place and importance I give someone in my life need not be equal to the place and importance that person gives me in theirs.

I did not understand this then. I understood it only after relationships had faded away.

How many years it took me to learn this!

Something Paul wrote to the Corinthians comes to mind:

"The more abundantly I love you, the less I am loved" (2 Corinthians 12:15).

In Paul's words, I see a reflection of my own experience. Just because I love someone deeply, I should not expect that person to love me to the same degree.

Love may be one-sided, but a close relationship cannot grow through one-sided effort alone.

As I began to understand this, I had to acknowledge another truth about myself.

3. My Expectations and My Ministry

Did I expect anything from them? Did I expect them to call me frequently, send me an occasional email, or enquire about my well-being?

No, I did not have such expectations.

But I did carry within me the thought that those relationships would continue.

Could that thought, perhaps, have become a subtle expectation of something in return?

If I believe that people should maintain a relationship with me because I have ministered to them, am I not turning my ministry into a debt they owe me?

I do not want that.

I did not love someone so that they would remember me for the rest of their lives. I loved them because I wanted to share with them the resources God had entrusted to me.

Jesus healed ten men suffering from leprosy, but only one returned to thank Him (Luke 17:11–19). Did the failure of the other nine to return make the good He had done for them meaningless?

I now view my own ministry in that light.

The value of my ministry cannot be measured by how much contact those who benefited from it maintain with me today.

But this raises another question.

What do I think about my own ministry?

4. I Am an Unprofitable Servant

Once, while speaking with a brother, I expressed some things with a measure of disappointment.

He said to me:

"Brother, do not take pride in what you have done for me. The Lord told you to do those things for me. You should thank the Lord for giving you an opportunity to minister to me. If you had not done it, the Lord would have accomplished it for me through someone else."

Those words pierced my heart. I have never forgotten them. They also made me think deeply.

I am reminded of something Jesus said:

"We are unprofitable servants. We have done what was our duty to do" (Luke 17:10).

Through the resources God entrusted to me, and according to His sovereignty, I may have ministered to someone at a particular stage of that person's life. But can I assume that God could not have worked in that person's life without me?

God's work does not depend on me.

Paul's words become even clearer to me here:

"I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase" (1 Corinthians 3:6).

I may have planted. Someone else may have watered. But it was God who gave the growth.

An elementary school teacher teaches children during their early years. But the students do not remain in elementary school forever. They move on to higher grades and continue their education. The teacher does not expect them to remain under his instruction indefinitely. Instead, he rejoices to see them grow and progress.

That is how I view my ministry.

Those who once sought my teaching and counsel may now be able to walk on their own. Or they may be benefiting from someone else's ministry.

Why should that grieve me?

Why did I minister to them? Was it so that they would remain dependent on me, or so that they would grow in Christ?

My desire is that they should continue to grow in Christ.

As I reflected on these things, I realised that I needed to examine myself rather than look only to others for the reasons why relationships had faded away.

5. Do I Know Myself as Well as I Know Others?

For thirty years, I was engaged in field ministry. I interacted closely with people and shared in their joys, sorrows, needs, and difficulties.

Through those experiences, I learned many lessons about people and relationships.

But how much did I learn about myself?

Could the way I spoke, behaved, interacted with others, made certain decisions, or expressed my opinions have caused some people to distance themselves from me?

I cannot rule out that possibility.

My intentions may have been good. But that does not mean everything I did was right. Some words I believed I had spoken in love may have sounded harsh to others. Some actions I took for their good may have been understood differently.

Some have described me as strict, stern, uncompromising, rough around the edges, and not particularly pleasant to be around.

I have not dismissed those criticisms.

Perhaps they saw blind spots in me that I could not see myself. Could one of those blind spots have been my failure to nurture relationships properly?

I think of a beautiful garden, filled with lovely plants, flowers, and trees. Yet if it is not carefully maintained, it can soon become an overgrown wilderness of thorns and weeds.

Could relationships be like that?

It is not enough merely to establish relationships. They must also be nurtured. We must show concern, offer appreciation where it is deserved, encourage others, and sometimes be willing to yield.

Did I show as much care in maintaining relationships as I did in establishing them and ministering to others? Perhaps I failed in this area.

But there is another difficulty.

To preserve relationships, must I praise everything? Must I commend what is wrong? Must I overlook faults? Must I lower the standards of God's Word?

I cannot do that.

There is a profound difference between nurturing relationships and compromising the truth merely to preserve them.

A verse from Proverbs comes to mind:

"Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful" (Proverbs 27:6).

In my experience, I sometimes wonder whether people prefer the pleasant kisses of an enemy to the honest wounds of a friend.

But this verse also compels me to examine myself.

Were the "wounds" I inflicted truly the faithful wounds of a friend? Were the faults I pointed out genuinely contrary to God's Word?

What I said may have been true. But did I say it with love and patience?

When Nathan confronted David and said, "You are the man," David acknowledged his sin (2 Samuel 12:1–13). That incident reminds me that others may see faults in us that we ourselves fail to recognise.

I now understand more deeply how important self-knowledge is, second only to the knowledge of God.

Knowing God and knowing myself are not unrelated. It is when I examine myself in the light of God's Word that even the faults I cannot see become apparent.

For the past twelve years, I have been learning in the classroom, comparing what I experienced in the field with what I am learning now.

Some things I did not understand before are becoming clearer. Some things I once considered right are now being re-examined.

Field ministry gave me experience. The classroom has given me an opportunity to examine that experience.

In the field, I learned about others. In the classroom, I am also learning about myself.

But my learning is far from over.

When I recognise my mistakes, I correct them. At the same time, I do not want to torment myself by assuming that I am responsible for every broken relationship.

Knowing myself is important. But I must also accept that I cannot fully know what is in another person's heart.

6. Not Every Separation Comes with an Explanation

Relationships experience friction. There are scratches, cuts, and sometimes deep wounds.

In time, the Lord heals them. Some wounds may heal quickly; others may take a long time. Even after healing, the scars may remain.

Cracks can develop in relationships. Some are repaired. Others widen until the relationships themselves break apart. Yet some relationships disappear without any visible crack at all.

That has happened in my life too.

Paul and Barnabas separated because of a disagreement over taking Mark with them (Acts 15:36–41). Scripture tells us the reason for their separation, but it does not fully explain what became of their relationship afterward.

In my own life, I do not even know why some relationships faded away.

I do not fully know what is happening in those people's lives, nor do I know the reasons behind their silence.

There was a time when I thought it would be good to know those reasons. But I have come to understand that I do not need answers to every question.

My journey through life may end without my ever knowing why certain relationships disappeared.

I am learning to accept that too.

Yet between not knowing the reasons for a separation and continuing to hold on to a relationship, there was another lesson I needed to learn.

7. I Am Learning to Love and Let Go

I am reminded of the rich young man who came to Jesus asking about eternal life.

He came running, knelt before Jesus, and eagerly asked what he must do to inherit eternal life (Mark 10:17).

Mark records something significant:

"Then Jesus, looking at him, loved him" (Mark 10:21).

Jesus loved him. Yet He did not hesitate to point out what was lacking in his life.

"One thing you still lack" (Luke 18:22).

Jesus exposed his attachment to wealth and called him to follow Him.

When the young man heard those words, he went away sorrowful.

The one who came running turned away. The one who knelt before Jesus rose and departed.

But Jesus did not run after him. He did not change His words to keep the young man with Him.

He let him go.

Another incident comes to mind.

After hearing Jesus' teaching, many of His disciples turned back and no longer walked with Him (John 6:66). Jesus then asked the Twelve:

"Do you also want to go away?" (John 6:67).

Jesus loved those who followed Him. But He did not change His teaching merely to persuade them to stay. Nor did He compel them to remain.

I have never considered those who separated from me to be like the rich young man or the disciples who rejected the truth.

Yet these two incidents have helped me understand something important.

There is a profound difference between loving someone and holding on to that person simply because we want them to remain with us.

If someone believes that a relationship with me would make their life more fruitful, meaningful, and spiritually vigorous, they may desire that relationship of their own accord.

But I do not wish to keep reminding someone who does not feel that way, "I am still here. Please do not forget me."

There is nothing wrong with contacting someone or enquiring about their well-being. But when a person makes it clear, through words or actions, that they no longer wish to maintain a relationship with me, I do not want to keep pursuing them in an effort to preserve it.

I have not stopped loving relationships. But I am learning not to chase people merely to keep those relationships alive.

At the same time, I have come to understand that letting someone go and harbouring bitterness toward them are not the same thing.

8. Left Alone, Yet Without Bitterness

There is something Paul wrote toward the end of his life that I particularly cherish.

"At my first defense no one stood with me, but all forsook me. May it not be charged against them" (2 Timothy 4:16).

Paul's attitude toward those who abandoned him makes me think deeply.

In the following verse, he writes:

"But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me" (2 Timothy 4:17).

Paul's circumstances and mine are not the same. But I need the same attitude he demonstrated.

There was a time when it hurt to think of those who had completely severed their relationship with me. Yet that pain never turned into bitterness. Nor have I regretted the ministry I carried out for them.

They may have forgotten me, but I have not forgotten the days we shared.

I have learned that even when people are no longer in contact with me, I can still desire their earthly well-being and spiritual blessings, and pray for them.

If those who are no longer in contact with me should seek me out again, I will welcome them gladly.

Paul, who once refused to take Mark with him, later wrote to Timothy, "Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is useful to me for ministry" (Acts 15:37–39; 2 Timothy 4:11).

That incident reminds me that a separation need not be the final chapter of a relationship.

My door remains open. But I will never compel anyone to come through it.

While my understanding of relationships was changing in these ways, the direction of my own life was also changing in ways I had never anticipated.

9. God Is Leading Me Along a Path I Never Planned

I had thought that, during the remaining years of my life, I would devote myself to editing, writing out, and organising all of Milton's messages, and, if possible, recording the songs I had translated and uploading them to the website.

That was all I had planned.

But during this period, God has placed burdens on my heart for work I had never even dreamed of undertaking.

I had never imagined that I would study Church history, research the lives of Christian pioneers, or prepare Bible studies on Leviticus and Hebrews.

Yet today, I am studying, researching, writing, recording, and producing videos on these subjects.

I am carrying out the work God has laid upon my heart, using the resources He has given me, for His glory.

Each of these tasks requires time, concentration, patience, and hard work. Sometimes, even a small task takes several days to complete.

Yet what deep satisfaction I find in doing them!

If I am able to complete these works during my lifetime, they will be a legacy I leave behind for Tamil-speaking Christians.

When John was on the island of Patmos, the Lord commanded him to write what he saw (Revelation 1:9–11). John's circumstances were entirely different from mine. Yet that incident reminds me that God can entrust work to someone even during a period of separation from others.

Sometimes I wonder whether I would have had the time to accomplish so much if I had continued maintaining as many relationships as I once did.

That does not mean I consider the loss of those relationships a good thing. Nor did I ever wish for them to disappear.

But many relationships that once occupied my time and attention are no longer part of my daily life. I am now able to devote that time to fulfilling the burdens God has placed upon my heart.

There are many things in my life that I do not fully understand. I do not fully understand God's purposes behind these changes either.

But God is sovereign. He does nothing carelessly or without purpose. I know with certainty that He continues to lead me even at this stage of my life.

I am not alone. God is with me.

I do not know how much longer I will remain on this earth. But I do not want to waste the days God has given me. As far as I am able, I want to fulfil the burdens He has placed upon my heart.

My relationships have become fewer, but the usefulness of my life has not diminished.

Conclusion — Relationships Beyond This Life

I thank the Lord for the relationships He has given me throughout my life.

Some people have left deep impressions upon my life. Perhaps I, too, have left an impression upon their lives in one way or another. I have not forgotten the experiences I gained or the lessons I learned through those relationships.

Some who are no longer in contact with me may seek me out again tomorrow. Others may never contact me again. That is not something I can determine.

But I continue to love those who enter my life today. Rather than living in the memories of relationships that have passed, I am living the life that has been given to me now.

I have lost relationships, but I have not lost my love for relationships.

The number of relationships I have, the years they lasted, or the number of people who contact me do not determine the value of my life.

What matters to me is not how much love I received from others, but how genuinely I loved them.

I have always known that not every relationship will last until the grave. Yet I believed that some relationships would continue beyond the grave, into eternity.

I cannot quite say that I expected it. I simply believed it would be so.

But over time, some relationships that I thought would endure into eternity disappeared even during this earthly life.

That does not mean I believe they have been lost for eternity.

I believe that some relationships lost in this life will blossom again in eternity, in Christ, in the New Jerusalem.

That faith brings me comfort.

I believe that the circumstances of life, misunderstandings, and emotional wounds that separated us here will not separate us in eternity.

I do not imagine that our relationships there will be exactly as they are now. But I believe that in Christ, in the presence of God, there will be perfect fellowship.

Until then, I will continue my journey through life.

I will love relationships. I will do everything I can to preserve them. But I will not chase anyone merely to make a relationship continue.

My love will not diminish. My door will not close. But I will not force anyone to come in.