We Can Relish the Pain

Pain. It's something we all deal with...the part of life, the everyday trips + cold winds + moments of silence that we don't like to acknowledge. Or speak of.

One thing that has truly been cemented for me during my college years is that everyone I meet - no matter how happy, how bubbly, how extroverted - has a story that no one else knows.

We all carry a little pain with us at all times.

There's no "golden" part of life -  one myth that I did believe and have since realized to be in error.

We talk about pain, about the big struggles of life, but I think sometimes we neglect to mention the little things, the tiny whispers of hurt, the small but numerous burdens that each of us carries. Perhaps your pain is something large - you've lost a parent or recently ended a relationship. Or perhaps it is small, such as struggling with waking early and making it to class on time or have difficulty making small talk or even opening up.

Each time I grow cynical and weary of humanity, inevitably, I am reminded in some small manner that a person is an incredibly complex being with as many hidden treasures and winding paths as a hallowed, small and yet infinite room of books. Here and there are volumes that speak of cheer and happiness and hard work and enthusiasm...but a few books are shabby. Worn out. Weary. Missing a cover.

Does that make them any less important? Or any less a part of the overall wonder of the room?

We try so hard to work through "the bad" in life. We speak of seasons, of being in funks, of off moods, of trials and tribulations. Everyone wants to pass through the clouds and chilling, tulmatious rainstorms. But pain is something that shapes us, like steel being formed in flame, or pressure that forms the clay. Would we grow without the pain?

Somehow, I don't think so.

I think often of where I am in life, both literally and figuratively. Where I am as a young adult in college, with less "real world" responsibilities surrounded by a community of similar people. And also where I am as a human being, still forming, still shaping, still growing. Pain grants perspective and deep thought and solitude...we want to work through the pain, so we pay attention to aspects of ourselves that perhaps we don't give thought to during the "good days."

What does it mean to recognize and acknowledge pain as something inevitable that often strengthens and changes us? Someone once said nothing worth doing is ever easy...Christ told us this also. The way we are called is a hard one to walk. But there is a deep internal promise that resonates within us...some good is coming of this. Some good will be made of this.

In no way is pain itself good, nor should one practice pain, but there is an enormous amount of grace and peace in accepting that there will always be a hard season in life. That no one person or job or situation will make us perfectly happy.

So we stand in the quiet of a crowd, and we breathe deep, and relish the pain - as much as we don't want it - because we know it's changing us.

It's strengthening us.

It's bringing us through something that hurts sharp and deep, but by heavens, we are not God and sometimes we need that reminder of humility. To remember that we cannot pen the pages of our life with the picture-book perfection we all want.

It's good, I think. To stop and wonder where we are now. To wonder why this particular person, place, or thing in our life is bringing confusion and pain.

And to decide in the quiet, to learn from it.