You know what? I’m grateful for pain.
As I watch a bunch of recent sadness unfold around me, I can’t help but be struck by the importance of it. Most of the great and important gains I’ve made in my life have been in a time of stress or sadness. Happiness, while certainly comfortable, doesn’t really do much to stretch me. A recent Newsweek article has had me thinking even more about this. My prayers (embarrassing admission ahead) are far more sincere and heartfelt when I’m under stress or facing crisis. When things tend to sail along, my relationship with the Lord tends to become too casual and dispassionate.
Some time ago, I read the story of a woman who survived the Rwandan genocide by hiding with seven other women in a bathroom for three months. She talks about how she, on occasion, actually misses the time spent in the 4′-6′ space because she became so close to the Lord. She misses that intimate relationship she forged with the Savior during the stay that left her weighing 80 pounds and atrophied. Her crisis helped push her closer to God. Doesn’t that ring true with many of us?
I know we (as a people) mostly tend to be in search of happiness (wait, isn’t there a book about that…), but my experience has found that so much of the richness of life is had in the shadows of happiness. Now, I certainly don’t want to advocate searching out pain and sadness, but feeling deep sorrow or profound mourning sharpens the edges of the happier moments. My toddlers heartbeat against my ear is more meaningful. My husband’s gentle hand around mine is more tender. Mundane moments are remembered more fondly as they contrast against sadder days.
(Lest I wax melancholy, I should probably acknowledge that most people have likely already figured this out. I’m just slow that way…Or perhaps I’m just somewhere else on the rod, way in the back, trying to catch up. Wave to me if you can see me, I could use the encouragement.)
Maybe we don’t always need to cheer each other up. Sometimes, maybe we could just be sad together. I’ve got some growing to do. And you?
Always.
My husband and I are facing a small trial (it’s nothing to genocide). For the third time in the last 5 years, we are faced with employment decisions that will cause us to move. Again. The options are good; they are many. Again. Do we know the right answer? Not yet –we are struggling with the decision. Again. Sometimes I think Heavenly Father is wondering if we’ll ever “get it”, because I can’t seem to understand what it is we need to “get”, or why we keep going through this. But I will tell you one thing –it has gotten easier. The patience is easier. The reliance on the Lord is easier. But I’m still not sure that’s what we need to learn; it feels as if there is so much more.
I love the idea of finding peace in the “shadows of happiness.” And the wonderful thing is that there is peace (and growth and humility and so many other virtues) to find there. And I think it’s perfectly normal (and wonderful and character building) to learn how to “just” be sad with one another. Because really, often there are so few solutions to these complex issues, being able to love and accept amongst hardship is sometimes the best and only skill that one can gain from pain.
I tend to think of going through really difficult times more in the sense of bearing burdens together than of cheering up. But I too have noticed how I am more constant and sincere through trials than I am during good times.
I’m going to ponder celebrating joy as deeply as I endure sorrow. Thanks for giving me something to think about.
I myself enjoy the occasional valium. I can’t take much or very often or I get really depressed, but I like to have it available. I have only recently started to contemplate how much I complain and how I want a life without suffering and how mad I am about it and maybe I’ve been missing tons of lessons.
Reese Witherspoon had a good quote in People magazine about how now every kid in the game is an all star (she must have her kids in T-ball or something). She strongly objects, telling about the time she didn’t get picked for the soccor team and how she cried about it for days. She says she thinks the disappointments of life make her a more interesting person.
I never thought of it that way. I guess now I can look at people who seem to live charmed lives and think “how boring you would be to Reese Witherspoon.”
annegb, I have never taken valium. Tell me all about it! I’m most curious…
For sure, my pain (and the pain I see around me) changes me. I feel it. It makes me more, oh, interesting. I’m certainly not out looking for more, but I am always grateful for those growing experiences after they happen.
And I’m getting old enough now that I know more is coming. I see it off on the horizon, quietly waiting for me. My parents, my teenagers, my own body rebelling — all of it. It’s coming. I guess I’m just slow to prepare.
What I am ever taken back by is people who seem genuinely surprised when life is hard. It’s not as if we didn’t see it coming.
Justine, that rod must be reallllly long because I thought I was the person at the backest back of the line.
I know that for me personally, I would not change those hard times for all of the joy in the world. I would have missed out on so much growth that is now me. The strength that we recieve is a blessing. A silver lining in the cloud if you will. I know I wasn’t happy about the trials at the time but I can look back and see how it has made me who I am.
How do you know how sweet it can be if you have not tasted the bitter?