Pains

Pain
Pain stayed so long I said to him today,
"I will not have you with me any more."
I stamped my foot and said, "Be on your way."
And paused there, startled as the look he wore,
"I, who have been your friend," he said to me,
"I, who have been your teacher---all you know
Of understanding love, of sympathy,
And patience, I have taught you. Shall I go?"
He spoke the truth, this strange unwelcome guest;
I watched him leave, and knew that he was wise,
He left a heart grown tender in my breast,
He left a far, clear vision in my eyes.
I dried my tears, and lifted up a song---
Even for one who'd tortured me so long.
 
Written By,
Spencer W. Kimball

I went to a class a week or so ago that was put on by two grief conselors.  They gave really fabulous talks on how to talk to people who are going through hard things like the loss of a loved one, infertility, depression and many other difficult circumstances. Because let's face it- we've all said something incredibly stupid to someone in pain at some point.  I think back on things I have said and thought were comforting and cringe. The couple teaching the class listed quotes and scriptures that are comforting and basically said that  the best thing you can say to someone in pain is: "I'm sorry.  How can I help you."  No - "This must have happened for a reason."  Or, "it wasn't meant to be." etc.  No accidental judgment attached to the comfort.


I have spent a serious amount of time over the last few years thinking about some of the difficult things the people around me are going through and trying to learn how to be there for them in a more considerate of their feelings.  Everyone goes through really tough things and I really want to learn how to be more sympathetic to other people's experiences.  I think I've made a lot of progress over the past few years but I'd like to make more.

I feel like several scars on my heart have formed in the last year. I've had several very healing experiences that have close some wounds.  There has been a remapping of the surface of my heart that I've come to accept and sometimes appreciate.  I realized a few weeks ago, that finally after four years and two children, thinking about our failed adoption in 2007 didn't bring on a soul crushing sadness.  Thinking about our tougher losses didn't stab me through the heart anymore.  It didn't hurt quite like it used to. I daresay, it is just a mild sting now.  He was never even really ours for more than a few hours, although the months leading up to his birth we thought we was ours.  I can't imagine losing a child later down the road into parenthood. I used to think that maybe I had peeked over the edge into the abyss that loss must feel like but now that I feel such healing, I'm not sure I ever had any idea of the depth of that sorrow. I guess I'm just feeling grateful to be in my own shoes, to have the Lord to strengthen me when I fall and to have good people around me.  I'm grateful for the things I've learned and I'm truly hoping to be able to support the people around me like I have been supported in my own trials.