Finding Beauty In The Pain
Transforming hurt into healing
Quiet anguish bubbling up, filling my being. I hadn’t noticed it for so long, the dull ache of a battered and bruised heart. And then…like the way the steady drip of an unseen leak can send a fortress crashing down, the dam burst. The pain demanded to make itself known. My throat clogged with unshed tears, my eyes beginning their own silent leak, the water of pain rolling down my cheeks.
I breathe. Try to get myself together. Not here. Not now. I don’t want to draw attention to myself.
The voices of my insecurities, which I had shoved to the far recesses of my brain, start to assert themselves. The whispered lies become shouts. Condemnation and guilt. Promises of a life of loneliness. Of a broken heart that will never heal. Of love that will never be found.
In these moments, darkness surrounds me. I search blindly for the truth.
I cry out from the pit. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Christ’s words from the cross echo in my mind. But my pain is not nearly as great as the one he took on. There is no physical suffering, only emotional anguish. And my response is not nearly as Christ-like. I respond to suffering with anger, with self-complaint. Even though I know that God is not some form of a heavenly Santa Clause, I question Him. ‘I…
