There is no way to separate pain from living.  A young person may think there is a level at which cares diminish, but it’s the thought which diminishes.  If the level exists, I’ve not been able to find it. Such musing does not derive from bitterness of the soul.  It is simply true that we are never running on all cylinders. While there may be shining successes in one or more areas of life at any time, there are debilitating deficiencies in others.  These areas of want cause…pain.

There is a preoccupation with hurt.  Consider how many songs have mournful themes and tones.  We like to have our hearts broken. How many motion pictures’ ends are, if not painful, bittersweet?  We don’t speak of Greek comedies but Greek tragedies. The fellowship of frustration runs deep in life.  We’ve all been there and are fortunate if we don’t live there. Even those of us who don’t cry often occasionally shed a tear of remembrance, remorse or regret.

 Life can be beautiful, but life is also burdensome.  God prohibited Adam and Eve from eating of the Tree of Life after the fall because there needed to be some escape from brokenness.  The clock of life continues to wind down and is often in disrepair when it finally stops. Some of the difficulties we face are of our own making, but it is not accurate to say that all of life’s choices are our own.  Sometimes, we see the wreck before the collision but not always.

Jesus said, “Come to Me.”  Now, people are always going to the gym or the club or the restaurant and wondering why the frustration persists.  When we need shelter from the tempest or rest in the shade, we can’t find refuge behind a tri-fold menu or under the shadow of a weight bench.  I’m not criticizing those things (they do some good), simply reminding us that the answer to life’s disappointments is nearby if, as Paul said, we would “feel after” it.    

God is not far from any of us.  I don’t understand why He cares, but He does.  When we hurt- He hurts. He feels our infirmities and is pained by our weaknesses.  When I think no one cares, I am not entirely right. Paul was convinced of the things he could not see and so must I be.  I am acquainted with pain and so is my Lord. God has never failed a test. He is the constant in a universe of variables.  I must learn to take hold of His strength.

My maternal grandmother died last night.  Her attending nurse said that, a few hours prior, she wiped away her “last tear.”  I was told that a terminally-ill patient will sometimes shed a tear from one eye prior to the end.  It was indeed the last.

The weeping and wounds of this lifetime are all in the game.  The end of the contest, however, is not the end of existence for the believer.  Departed saints of all ages await completeness until the last child of God comes home.

Sterl