What’s the point of pain?

The point of the nail pierced the raw skin of my thigh as I was trying to find my way in the dark that night. I had forgotten of the cabinet which had been torn out earlier and was now sitting misplaced on my nightly path. My bladder was full and I was walking half dead to the bathroom. My leg was stinging so badly. As I patted the blood and headed back to bed to get a few more hours of sleep, the burning of the puncture kept me lying awake. My body was fighting for it…I wonder what purpose its’ pain would be….pain always leads us digging for a glimpse of greater meaning….

It’s been a long year…grieving losses, attending wounds, countless hours in hospital lobbies and drying tears of broken lives. My mind was replaying the stories of tender brokenness.

Sometimes the piercing of the skin runs deep into the chambers of our heart.

My leg screamed in pain and my heart ached in so many directions. My lips began reciting names of hurting neighbors & family members who were in the midst of their own battles. As I was kept awake I begged God to intervene and bring some morsel of relief to our world’s brokenness….

With this tiny intrusion of my leg, my thoughts drifted to Jesus’ suffering. Crudely stretched across the joint of two wooden planks, hands and feet punctured as nails found their jagged way through bone and flesh, his mind selflessly drifted to the broken & hurting….to you & to me.

Maybe pain is meant to transfer our mind from ourselves to others…

What else causes our thoughts to branch outward and reach into the intimate crevices of another’s soul like its presence does? Shadows of it able to trigger thoughts for years to come.

I’m convinced by the healing I’ve seen poured into busted up souls, that pain was never meant to be hidden in us alone….but to be shared. Whether it meets others in their pain through our prayers or seen in the daily living out of our lives…pain is not meant to suffer alone. For when it’s experienced in community it’s far easier to bear, harvests far more and feeds thousands more than left by itself where it decays souls.

When I woke up that morning,
my eyes opened,
the pain was gone
…..only the small cut laid open & fresh….a reminder to me of the wrestling I did only hours before.

Our wounds have a way of bringing clarity.

They usher in gratefulness.
Gratitude for those who hold us up through our weary times of hard

…. & for our Heavenly Father who loves us enough to walk beside us in our pain.