Those words of the title really describe the last few days or so. My personality is such that when I feel pain, I internalize it and calmly walk through it, and then afterward I allow it to affect me. And within the last few months, I've allowed my emotions to work their proper balance on my personality, so I now empathize with others as well as feel more of my own emotions. I typically shed tears twice a year or so, and I can usually feel it coming for at least a couple of weeks. I typically do cry alone, but it seems like I always wish some certain person was there. And in the same way, I suppose, I hate finding out that one of my friends has cried alone. I want to be there for them, to enter into their pain with them, to show them that the God of the universe is the God who is near.
The last few days, it's just seemed that so many of my dear friends are hurting, and I guess I'm entering into their hurts with them, although it's from afar with some. Commencement at Faith was just a couple of days ago, so with that whole time of transition, the level of emotion seems to rise a bit, with everyone saying goodbye to friends, at least for the summer, some looking ahead to traveling across the globe or across the nation, going on adventures and looking forward to being able to tell the stories that come with them. But with some of them, something or another just hurts. A couple have just broken off relationships. A couple are dealing with physical pain. A couple have just lost loved ones. And it hurts. It all hurts. And I can no longer look from afar and loft my condolences to them---now they are my dear friends and I feel their pain with them. Not to the same extent, of course, but I do empathize, and all of them together do build up.
Add to that my own major life decision, in which I'm still no closer to seeing a clear direction, and the last few days have just been somber. Honestly, I don't know whether God would have me be a pastor, or to go into the more specific field of counseling. I've weighed the pros and cons and thought and prayed about it for some time now, and it seems like every time something happens to push me in one direction, something else happens to pull me back to the middle between the two. And it's not like I need to make the decision within the next two weeks, but it certainly is on my mind.
I'm afraid my thoughts will ramble just a bit more than usual tonight, but hopefully they're still truthful, if harder to follow. I've been thinking about friendships. Like okay, I've chosen incredible friends. I trust my friends. I respect my friends. I feel like those I call my friend I could call on at any moment and they would come through for me. I could ask them to do a favor for a total stranger to them, and they would do it in a heartbeat. I could ask for anything for myself, and they would do it without hesitation. My friends are confident. My friends are generous. My friends are godly. My friends are accomplishing things with their lives (even if they don't always think so, as is typical with humble people).
My friends also understand the concept of iron sharpening iron, to different degrees of understanding, of course. We understand that we can't do it alone, and so we enter into relationships with others with a "give and take" spirit. And really, that's how it needs to be. For instance, Josh and I swap cars almost without even asking, based almost more on which one is in the way of the other than which one belongs to which of us. We put fuel in each others cars and meals on each others tables without bothering to make sure every dime is accounted for (although I have no doubt over the long term, I've gotten the better end of the deal). I love my friends. I would die for them. And I will live for them.
Along that same line, I have a blessing straight from God that few people have, and that is my family. Today being Mother's Day, the concept of family has been floating around a lot today and in days past. I have a family that has harmony. You know, in music? Where you have different notes working together to create a harmonious sound, something that is beautiful. My family is like that. Dad is the quiet strength and leads our family by example, in both love and discipline. Mom is the bubbly energy and the sweet, generous spirit. Together, they've led us through the years as we've grown, and accepted each new challenge we've presented to them with unified grace and dignity.
Carrie is the wise one. She is so much better at making relationships work than I am. She guards her heart, yet gives generously and instantly. She will be blunt if you need it and she will be gentle if you need it.
Scott is the hard-working one. He's so much more driven than I am when it comes to labor. I worked on the farm for the paycheck. He works because he loves it. He most definitely will not be the first one to speak, but he's good at what he does and he knows it.
Laura is the outspoken one. She brings a loud, laughing, smiling energy into our family. She's the social butterfly and loves all of her friends. She'll go out of her way to make others smile, and her presents always have a lot of thought put into them.
Hope is the curious one. She's so smart--way smarter than I was at 8. Or is she 9 now? Anyway, she picks up new subjects so quickly and always asks questions that actually make you think for an answer. She also has such a soft heart, and enters into others' joys and pains so readily.
And do you know something completely crazy? My siblings and I don't say "I love you" almost ever. Dad and Mom make sure to say it and mean it whenever we end a phone conversation or close an evening, but between my siblings and I, we just kinda never do. But you know what? We know it. We know our love is there. We've even talked about it, how it's crazy that it really isn't ever spoken, but it's there, and WAAAY more deeply than a lot of other families I've observed. I have absolutely no doubt that at this moment, every one of my siblings loves me, is loyal to me, and would die for me, and none of them doubt those things of me. We have harmony among us. We don't bicker or fight; we know how to solve problems together. I'm probably the closest with Carrie, just because we're the closest in age, and I swear sometimes we're almost telepathic, the way we think alike. Our close friends know that we dress alike. We'll actually come down on Sunday morning, after getting ready on different floors of the house, never speaking or seeing each other, and we'll be wearing the guy and girl versions of the same outfit. It's creepy, I tell ya...
But for real, I love my family, and I wouldn't trade any of them for the world. But something that's been on my mind for quite some time is this. What about those who don't have harmony in their family? What about those who give lip service to how a family should work, but in reality the mom leads and the dad gives permission? I actually heard a mom say that once: "I never do anything without my husband's permission." But what was left out was that she also did very little under her husband's direction, because he was passive. He wasn't a man, content to let his wife lead while he played with his hobbies and such. Men, let us be real men.
What about those whose family is broken apart by death or divorce? Two of my dearest friends come from such families. I can't imagine the pain. To lose a parent? At our age, at least. I honestly can't even imagine the heart-rending, searing pain that would bring. Or to watch as my parents separate by divorce, and break apart the foundation of everything I know to be sure and solid? To watch those on whose love my life is built look at each other and pull apart that love? I can't imagine, other than by observation, how deeply alarming and disturbing and heart-wrenching that would be, to the very core of everything I know and feel.
The only pain I really know is the pain of rejection, which is hard in its own way, I know, but different from the pain of separation. But going through that pain does allow me to enter into others' pain in a deeper way, and there are some things I found in that time.
Pain has a way of making everything you thought was solid and making you realize it really wasn't that stable at all. It's like you're standing on a dock in a lake, which is relatively sturdy as you've seen. But then, something comes along and turns that dock from wood to Jello, and all of a sudden, the thing you thought was pretty sturdy really isn't that solid at all. And so you're swaying, swinging, flailing, grasping for anything solid to stand on before you drown. And in the midst of all that uncertainty, you find a rock, right where you need it.
Pain is like that. It's clarifying, in its own way. It has a way of showing you that the things you were trusting in weren't really that trustworthy, and shows you something you wouldn't have found otherwise that truly is solid, and you can stand on no matter the storm that comes. For me it was the promises. You know, the words of God to those that love Him. One in particular I always come back to, and that is this:
Psalm 73:26
"My flesh and my heart fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."
It's hard to see in the middle. It's hard to really be sure that God knows what he's doing when your entire world is being rocked. But God gives peace. God gives strength. Study the promises, and notice something peculiar: God never promises to pull us out of trials, but he promises over and over and over again to give us strength through the trials. Be encouraged, Christian, that the God of the universe is the God who is near. If your life is going smoothly, remain sensitive to those around you whose smiles hide tears and laughter is but a front for their sighs. Their pain doesn't need to be fixed; their foundation needs to be strengthened, and you can't do that with words. Reflect to them the surety that comes from the knowledge that through it all, the God who threw the mountains into place with exquisite care. . .
. . . cares deeply. For you.
Remember how a diamond is made. And with that thought, I bid you good night.
The last few days, it's just seemed that so many of my dear friends are hurting, and I guess I'm entering into their hurts with them, although it's from afar with some. Commencement at Faith was just a couple of days ago, so with that whole time of transition, the level of emotion seems to rise a bit, with everyone saying goodbye to friends, at least for the summer, some looking ahead to traveling across the globe or across the nation, going on adventures and looking forward to being able to tell the stories that come with them. But with some of them, something or another just hurts. A couple have just broken off relationships. A couple are dealing with physical pain. A couple have just lost loved ones. And it hurts. It all hurts. And I can no longer look from afar and loft my condolences to them---now they are my dear friends and I feel their pain with them. Not to the same extent, of course, but I do empathize, and all of them together do build up.
Add to that my own major life decision, in which I'm still no closer to seeing a clear direction, and the last few days have just been somber. Honestly, I don't know whether God would have me be a pastor, or to go into the more specific field of counseling. I've weighed the pros and cons and thought and prayed about it for some time now, and it seems like every time something happens to push me in one direction, something else happens to pull me back to the middle between the two. And it's not like I need to make the decision within the next two weeks, but it certainly is on my mind.
I'm afraid my thoughts will ramble just a bit more than usual tonight, but hopefully they're still truthful, if harder to follow. I've been thinking about friendships. Like okay, I've chosen incredible friends. I trust my friends. I respect my friends. I feel like those I call my friend I could call on at any moment and they would come through for me. I could ask them to do a favor for a total stranger to them, and they would do it in a heartbeat. I could ask for anything for myself, and they would do it without hesitation. My friends are confident. My friends are generous. My friends are godly. My friends are accomplishing things with their lives (even if they don't always think so, as is typical with humble people).
My friends also understand the concept of iron sharpening iron, to different degrees of understanding, of course. We understand that we can't do it alone, and so we enter into relationships with others with a "give and take" spirit. And really, that's how it needs to be. For instance, Josh and I swap cars almost without even asking, based almost more on which one is in the way of the other than which one belongs to which of us. We put fuel in each others cars and meals on each others tables without bothering to make sure every dime is accounted for (although I have no doubt over the long term, I've gotten the better end of the deal). I love my friends. I would die for them. And I will live for them.
Along that same line, I have a blessing straight from God that few people have, and that is my family. Today being Mother's Day, the concept of family has been floating around a lot today and in days past. I have a family that has harmony. You know, in music? Where you have different notes working together to create a harmonious sound, something that is beautiful. My family is like that. Dad is the quiet strength and leads our family by example, in both love and discipline. Mom is the bubbly energy and the sweet, generous spirit. Together, they've led us through the years as we've grown, and accepted each new challenge we've presented to them with unified grace and dignity.
Carrie is the wise one. She is so much better at making relationships work than I am. She guards her heart, yet gives generously and instantly. She will be blunt if you need it and she will be gentle if you need it.
Scott is the hard-working one. He's so much more driven than I am when it comes to labor. I worked on the farm for the paycheck. He works because he loves it. He most definitely will not be the first one to speak, but he's good at what he does and he knows it.
Laura is the outspoken one. She brings a loud, laughing, smiling energy into our family. She's the social butterfly and loves all of her friends. She'll go out of her way to make others smile, and her presents always have a lot of thought put into them.
Hope is the curious one. She's so smart--way smarter than I was at 8. Or is she 9 now? Anyway, she picks up new subjects so quickly and always asks questions that actually make you think for an answer. She also has such a soft heart, and enters into others' joys and pains so readily.
And do you know something completely crazy? My siblings and I don't say "I love you" almost ever. Dad and Mom make sure to say it and mean it whenever we end a phone conversation or close an evening, but between my siblings and I, we just kinda never do. But you know what? We know it. We know our love is there. We've even talked about it, how it's crazy that it really isn't ever spoken, but it's there, and WAAAY more deeply than a lot of other families I've observed. I have absolutely no doubt that at this moment, every one of my siblings loves me, is loyal to me, and would die for me, and none of them doubt those things of me. We have harmony among us. We don't bicker or fight; we know how to solve problems together. I'm probably the closest with Carrie, just because we're the closest in age, and I swear sometimes we're almost telepathic, the way we think alike. Our close friends know that we dress alike. We'll actually come down on Sunday morning, after getting ready on different floors of the house, never speaking or seeing each other, and we'll be wearing the guy and girl versions of the same outfit. It's creepy, I tell ya...
But for real, I love my family, and I wouldn't trade any of them for the world. But something that's been on my mind for quite some time is this. What about those who don't have harmony in their family? What about those who give lip service to how a family should work, but in reality the mom leads and the dad gives permission? I actually heard a mom say that once: "I never do anything without my husband's permission." But what was left out was that she also did very little under her husband's direction, because he was passive. He wasn't a man, content to let his wife lead while he played with his hobbies and such. Men, let us be real men.
What about those whose family is broken apart by death or divorce? Two of my dearest friends come from such families. I can't imagine the pain. To lose a parent? At our age, at least. I honestly can't even imagine the heart-rending, searing pain that would bring. Or to watch as my parents separate by divorce, and break apart the foundation of everything I know to be sure and solid? To watch those on whose love my life is built look at each other and pull apart that love? I can't imagine, other than by observation, how deeply alarming and disturbing and heart-wrenching that would be, to the very core of everything I know and feel.
The only pain I really know is the pain of rejection, which is hard in its own way, I know, but different from the pain of separation. But going through that pain does allow me to enter into others' pain in a deeper way, and there are some things I found in that time.
Pain has a way of making everything you thought was solid and making you realize it really wasn't that stable at all. It's like you're standing on a dock in a lake, which is relatively sturdy as you've seen. But then, something comes along and turns that dock from wood to Jello, and all of a sudden, the thing you thought was pretty sturdy really isn't that solid at all. And so you're swaying, swinging, flailing, grasping for anything solid to stand on before you drown. And in the midst of all that uncertainty, you find a rock, right where you need it.
Pain is like that. It's clarifying, in its own way. It has a way of showing you that the things you were trusting in weren't really that trustworthy, and shows you something you wouldn't have found otherwise that truly is solid, and you can stand on no matter the storm that comes. For me it was the promises. You know, the words of God to those that love Him. One in particular I always come back to, and that is this:
Psalm 73:26
"My flesh and my heart fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."
It's hard to see in the middle. It's hard to really be sure that God knows what he's doing when your entire world is being rocked. But God gives peace. God gives strength. Study the promises, and notice something peculiar: God never promises to pull us out of trials, but he promises over and over and over again to give us strength through the trials. Be encouraged, Christian, that the God of the universe is the God who is near. If your life is going smoothly, remain sensitive to those around you whose smiles hide tears and laughter is but a front for their sighs. Their pain doesn't need to be fixed; their foundation needs to be strengthened, and you can't do that with words. Reflect to them the surety that comes from the knowledge that through it all, the God who threw the mountains into place with exquisite care. . .
. . . cares deeply. For you.
Remember how a diamond is made. And with that thought, I bid you good night.
1 comment:
Feeling other peoples pain is a great gift. I used to think it as a curse. But embrace it and you will feel things in life you've never imagined, both good and bad.
We all sort through our trials and i like to think of things as a bow and arrow. You are pulled back just before shooting forward.
-much love dear cousin.
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