Pages

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Sunday Thoughts

I'm rereading The Prophet and was reminded again of this painful truth in my reading.

This morning at church, I watched as a young boy of about four or five, who was built much like my son at that age, climbed onto the lap of a man who may soon be his stepfather. They were sitting chest to chest with their arms wrapped tightly around each other, almost like they were melted together. Instantly I was brought back into time when I held my own son that way (and my girls, too) and the tears flowed.

Also from my vantage point, I saw a man about my age who lost his wife this past November. He was sitting by his mother-in-law. I couldn't see her so well, but the man looked a lot like a lost little boy. And the congregation was singing about peace in the storm, and how "it's gonna be all right." I prayed earnestly for that man, right then and there. Our pain is not exactly the same, but it's still pain. And I know how dark loss can sometimes be.

There sometimes seems to be so much pain and loss in the world. There often seems to be so little that can be done about it. Many times, we do more harm than good by offering advice and cheery platitudes that do not take into account the depth of the pain we are addressing. I'm wrestling with ways to be better at responding to pain and loss that I come across in my world.

One thing I've learned through my own loss is the value of just sitting in silence with one who is hurting, just being there, without words, and without the cheesy admonitions, and without judgment for how the person/friend is handling their pain/loss, trusting that they will find their way through. That's cheesy advice too! I must acknowledge, some will not make it through their pain/loss. I don't know what to say (or do) about that part. So I won't say anything.


I've wrestled my way through a little over a year of mourning and I know I will wrestle some more. But for now, at this moment, I am very grateful for the joy that is interspersed into and throughout my mourning.

15 comments:

  1. You have put into words a whole lot of things that I could not. I am so glad that you are able to recognize other pain in the midst of your own and pray.


    But I wish that you did not have to have suffered the pain.

    I hate the wresting but I can see that it is sometimes necessary. Thank you for letting me sit with yours for awhile. I love you....always.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. So now we're kind of, sort of, even? Since you expressed things I could not and I expressed things you could not!

      I feel like I keep beating the same old drum and saying pain and suffering are necessary for growth! I don't know if that is always true or not.

      Mindy, I love you, too--what was that quote from you about knowing others by their heart? You've got a good heart, friend!

      Delete
  2. Oh, hell. Mindy done stole all the good comments. dangit. ;)

    I'll just sit here and be silent. And stuff.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. She's bad about that, Rach! You have to watch her!

      Thanks for sitting with me and being silent. And stuff. Did you bring any good snacks? :)

      Delete
    2. Yep. Fiddle Faddle. In a bowl. 'cuz we're fancy and stuff.

      Delete
  3. You see what others don't and say what others cannot.
    You've been in the dark and realize when others are there.
    It's not something any of us would have wished for you, but there is power and strength in what you've survived.

    <3

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, D! May I use my power and strength well!

      Delete
  4. Thank you. I appreciate your words and your sitting quietly with me from time to time. I'll sit quietly with you when you need a friend.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks! I appreciate your kind words. They are helpful.

      Delete
  5. Beautiful thoughts, Annie. We are tied to each other, I believe, even as we re tied to Him.

    ReplyDelete

Don't just sit there staring, say something!