I have these 2 friends. They taught me how to climb. To climb mountains and scale walls.
I have these 2 friends. They took my hand and guided me through the night forest.
I have these 2 friends. They would sit by me when I needed to fall apart and cry.
I have these 2 friends. They told me to embrace the pain and the heartache. To feel the weight of both.
I have these 2 friends. They encouraged me to lean into them, to embrace them with Hope.
I have these 2 friends. They wisely told me that if I ignored or avoided them, they wouldn't give me the freedom and healing I needed - not because they weren't capable or didn't desire to - but because my avoidance positioned me unable to receive what my Father desperately wanted me to have.
I have these 2 friends. They led me through the dark corners, the eery places, the lonely and unpaved roads.
I have these 2 friends. They took me down...down... and down further into the valley. That valley of loss; where the reality of what's gone, of who's gone, was felt at the very depth of my created being. I didn't know the valley could go that low.
I have these 2 friends. They bathed me in tears. My tears.
I have these 2 friends. They told me to mourn. And to never avoid it. To never cut it short.
I have these 2 friends. They humbled me. Annihilated any pride I had left to "get through it on my own and not talk about it."
I have these 2 friends. They told me I can't conquer what I'm not willing to confront.
I have these 2 friends. They brought the rain and the clouds. They brought the thunder. The lighting.
I have these 2 friends. They would take my hand and when they did, it hurt. It stung. It pained me deeply. But I took their hands anyway.
I have these 2 friends. They taught me how to face my fears. And when one of those very big fears came true, they showed me how to grieve.
I have these 2 friends. They showed me how to give it all up; to sacrifice and surrender all that I'm so terrified to let go of.
I have these 2 friends. They told me that by accepting them as friends it would teach me courage.
I have these 2 friends. They told me that the world would advise me to run from them; to flee. They told me not to listen because their presence held a promise. A promise that would change everything. It would change me.
I have these 2 friends. They were best friends to Affliction. Cousins to Pain. They were the children of Adversity.
I have these 2 friends. They were unconventional and un-ordinary friends. Friends most wouldn't call a "friend."
But I did. I learned to.
My friend's name's are Sorrow and Suffering. The two gifted friendships from the Father Himself that no one ever longs for.
These friends, Sorrow and Suffering, they did something. They did what my Father said they would do. They changed me. They changed me in a way I could never do on my own without them. Not only did they change me, but they gave what was promised.
They choreographed this beautiful dance I was taught. Joy were the feet that I danced it with.
They taught me the path up the mountain and secured me to scale the walls. Peace was my life rope; it was my calm, steady heart that formed within me as I climbed up surfaces that would normally cause me to tremble and hide.
They were the hands I clenched through the dark forest. Joy was the afterglow of trusting them through it, believing that it wouldn't stay dark forever simply because my Father said so.
He said so. That was enough for me to keep going.
They helped me fall to pieces - to lose all my own strength only to gain His. Joy, compelled by the power of God, is what raised me back up again. Real life. New life.
They would whisper to me "Let us in to your pain, let us in to your heartache, we are the first healing balm for your soul." And when I did I felt the weight of their existence - believing in what was promised that the deeper I allow my friend's Sorrow and Suffering to go, the deeper my friend's Joy and Peace can live.
They took me to low places - not despairing and depressed - but low; where all I had was a friend in them. It was there in the valley of complete loss that I found fellowship with the cousin's to Pain. I clung to them. Wringing out every single thing they had to offer. Not wanting to waste or miss a thing. And as my fellowship with them grew, so did the Joy.
They brought the rain upon me. Watered the seeded soil inside me. Those seeds knew what awaited them above the surface of the soil. The Son. Joy was the sun that drew the first bit of green life out of the surface of the earth.
They brought the lightning and thunder. Peace was the composer that taught me how to sing amidst the storm.
They took out their white wash cloths, pure as snow, dipped it in a bucket of my tears and washed me with it. Gently. Lovingly. They whispered and reminded me, "The Promise He promised stays true. Even now. Even when it appears and feels like it doesn't." And at that moment, my friend Peace burned inside me. It was then I knew...Peace was beginning to burn out the Suffering.
They told me it was good to surrender it all over; to empty my hands and my bags of all I was carrying. They told me He had something better for me. And I believed them. So I surrendered it all - over and over again - day after day. For weeks. For months and months. And every single time, my friend Joy burned inside me. It was then I knew... Joy was beginning to burn out the Sorrow.
God knows that there are some things that only Sorrow and Suffering can do. They are experts at it. As backward and counter-cultural as it sounds, they can be some of the greatest companions you've ever had. Because the truth is, "on the other side" of your affliction, your pain, and your adversity, Sorrow and Suffering are going to transform into Joy and Peace. Their purpose is made perfect in your humble and surrendered weakness. Let them in. And when you do, cling to and declare the Hope of His Promise. Hold God to His Word.
Joy needs Sorrow in order to become Joy. Peace needs Suffering in order to become Peace.
Don't waste your pain.
***Inspired by Hinds Feet on High Places. A book everyone should read. And re-read. And then re-read again 10 years later.***
No comments:
Post a Comment