Throughout my life I've experienced different kinds and intensities of pain, some quick and intense (like the time I broke my collar bone falling out of bed), others less sharp and long-term (like growing up with anxiety). Some bones required finger splints, or collar bone straps; others hurts needed longer-term assistance to overcome the disadvantages of Dyslexia. So when I survey where I am today, and the experiences that led me here, I see the lasting impact of these various times in my life. I've been shaped by my longings and losses.
As a Christian I have this tendency to want to redeem things before Jesus has done the work. I can get uncomfortable with the grieving, mourning, and weeping of the difficult experiences I encounter. I tend to want to handle these losses with my intelligence, will power, strength, and perseverance to help me carry on. Something about standing around in the hurt can make me twitchy if I stand there alone for too long.
But I'm learning that Jesus invites me to journey with him through my pain. Not around it, or above it. Right through the mucky middle of it. He weeps with me in it. He grieves with me. He's not very twitchy about sitting with me in the midst of loss, whether it be physical, relational, or emotional.
When I try to skip past this part of his "with-ness" I miss his comfort; I miss the opportunity to allow my tears to make room for healing. Jesus invites me to sit with him and grieve. When I feel heard, or comforted, I feel known. And this often leaves me with a sense of courage or hope. I feel like I can stand up and carry on from a deeper place of wholeness when I've grieved through my pain, and let it inevitably change me.
I Wonder... What would it look like...