Good Grief

Of all the injustices in the world, those done against me always masquerade as most grievous. Surely, no one knows my sorrows like I do. Certainly, no one can say their troubles were more important than mine.

I hear of wars and famines and terrible natural disasters in which hundreds of thousands of people die, lose loved ones, lose their homes and all their worldly possessions. And yet, my momentary heartbreak, my singular, personal, at home catastrophe is at once more pronounced and miserable than all the rest.

How foolish is the human heart which grieves alone and suffers in sorrow and cannot rouse itself from melancholy sufficiently to see the great and terrible wonders that have devoured a neighbor or capsized a nation.

Truly, everyone suffers. All who pass through mortality endure great pains of all kinds. Pain is the energy of change. It is an essential element to growth and development. The unpleasantness of pain motivates us to do something differently to alleviate the problem causing the pain.

If my troubles seem minimized, I am assuaged, convinced of my own well being in comparison to others. But if I hurt, if I grieve, if I struggle, then, and only then do I heal, grow, become.

Let sorrow, therefore, be unto me the fertilizer tilled into my garden's soil, that when the seed thus planted receives of the waters and light of Christ, my tree will sprout, strengthen, take root, branch out, blossom, and bear fruit worthy of a King's trained palette.