Life can be heartbreaking in so many ways, and in subtle, sinister ways that never cross our worried minds until we’re blindsided by them. Pain is something to drink in and learn from, like any other experience in life. It’s something we avoid, and although we shouldn’t, it doesn’t matter, as the various cruelties of life will touch us all whether we like it or not.
Everyone will tell you that time heals all wounds and that your suffering won’t last. I believe this is the case sometimes. There are past hurts I’ve suffered that simply don’t matter anymore, due to maturity, changing values, or a calm acceptance full of understanding. I think of them and am grateful for the way they’ve shaped me and taught me compassion. And there are other broken hearts that have been beautifully redeemed in some way. An apology, reconciliation, a success after so many failed attempts, a changed heart, a second chance, even a miracle. These kinds of pain have been wiped clean in a sense by a change in the circumstances. I know I’m not alone in having been conditioned to believe that pain will go away in one of these ways, if enough time passes.
But there is some pain that never goes away. Regret that I don’t know what to do with, people that I never shared myself with, that I’ll never see again, connections that were lost, opportunities missed, people that don’t love me, can never love me the way I need to be loved, people who have hurt and used and betrayed me. I believe in second chances but I don’t always get them. I carry these things around with me hoping for redemption and bleeding just a little bit for the way things aren’t.
I am forever looking for something that will right the wrongs, that will be the dividing line between the way things are and the way I long for them to have turned out. I will probably look forever, but I have to accept that some hurts will just never go away.
And even in our sleep a pain that cannot forget
Falls drop by drop upon the heart,
And in our own despite, against our will,
Comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.
Falls drop by drop upon the heart,
And in our own despite, against our will,
Comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.
We tell ourselves so many stories about the things that happen to us, just to survive. Pretending not to feel the things we do to create emotional distance, to make the hurting stop. “He was horrible”, “it wouldn’t have worked out anyways”, “she had issues” and on and on. Sometimes there’s simply no justification. A situation just hurts. I find that although it doesn’t create any space from my pain, I go on wanting and hoping for that redemption. I move forward, I stand up to those who treat me poorly, I ask for forgiveness, as everyone has to, but my heart lingers. It refuses to fully acquiesce to hated or distance. I still love and care for everyone and everything I’ve ever felt anything for, despite what they may have done to me or what pain they may have caused me. I cherish them in my heart as the people and things they were, or I thought they were before things changed. Like a child that still longs for love from an abusive parent, you can’t deny what’s in your heart, as illogical as it may be.
I don’t think that life and the undeniable pain in it can be explained away so that things don’t hurt. To try to do so isn’t authentic. Sometimes there is nothing else to do but just bleed and accept the wounds for what they are. It’s truth, and there really is nothing else.
……life had taught me undeniably that surrender, in its place, was as honorable as resistance, especially if one had no choice…….
