Low Pain Tolerance

The past few times I've listened to Dr. Impson teach, the theme of suffering has come up. Whether lecturing on Alfred, Lord Tennyson's "In Memorium" or talking in CLF about her own struggle with pain, it has brought me to tears every time. Suffering is something that everyone naturally hates to experience, but for some reason, it really -- I mean really -- shakes me up.

For the past few years, I've struggled with the tension between being one who's heart breaks for the things God's heart breaks for and one who is able to do something about it. It's been hammered in my head that crying doesn't solve anything; then why do I do it?! Why does my heart break so easily for the widow in the orphan, when we were called to "look after the widow and the orphan in their distress," but James never offers crying for them a viable option.

Maybe we need criers to soften the hearts of others, to make them aware of the pain they blindly walk past. I mourn the pain of the widow and orphan; my heart aches for their suffering. I just need a way to not feel so helpless. I need a partner in my quest for change, one who holds the stature to make the dominoes fall. Maybe tears help weaken the hard heart of the first domino. But I place my confidence in the hope that I have the ultimate Domino-Pusher upholding me.

Wrote this a while ago...

A light held fast to the corner of a cabin illuminating everything in its small world. Many creatures were in awe of this light, and some even tried to go close to the source. Insects buzzed and flew straight up to the lighted glass. What audacity to go poke and prod in order to find the source! Trying to overcome a substance they knew nothing of, their bodies continued to press hard against the glass. These bugs could very easily spend their lifetimes searching for a way through the glass veil and never find the source of the bright warmth. About a yard away on the cabin wall, a leaf-bug simply sat. He sat and enjoyed the light; he did not struggle with the complex issues other insects were wrestling with. He sat in the light, in its warmth and stayed there. He was content not knowing all of the answers the other bugs wanted; the leaf-bug knew that from where it rested in the light, others could look upon its beautifully crafted legs, head, and wings. They could marvel at the power of the light to illuminate such intricacies. It would not be long before others were drawn to sit and rest with him beneath the warm-lit world of the light.

Sit and enjoy; cease striving and know that even in resting in Him glory is still brought to the Light.