Sorrow

Andrew Bonar, a minister of the Free Church of Scotland 1810-1892

"...how little impression our sorrow makes upon other men has often struck me, so that it is our Father's discipline for us personally; instead of thinking this sad, let me rather be pleased and glad that my Father takes this special, peculiar interest in me by myself."                                          

Bonar says that our sorrow makes little impression upon other men. That is true. We sympathize, try to empathize when someone we care about is hurting, but there is that niggling fear that makes us wants to run from the afflicted so we don't have to be reminded - next time might be my turn. So we console, take food, mouth platitudes and go home to our families, jobs, concerns... life goes on for us. 

         

Life is about loss; we can't escape it and sorrow, according to Bonar, is God's special gift. It doesn't feel much like a gift though. It hurts. I'd gladly refuse if I could. But, of course, one can't refuse. There is no choice in the matter at all. The lessons of sorrow, however, we do control. I can choose to ignore the pain, numb the pain, narcissisticly revel in the pain or work through the emotions of sorrow and grow. One thing I have learned is that sorrow is a private, internal process that others can't help with, only be patient with.

The part of his statement I question is, and I question this in many parts of my spiritual life, "Does God take this special, peculiar interest in me by myself." I don't mean to imply that God doesn't care but rather how hands-on is He? He doesn't personally need to make each dawn and dusk appear. He doesn't hand deliver each soul into a newly form embryo. He doesn't hold every tree, rock and thing literally in the grip of His hand. Does He then orchestrate each movement of my life?

I don't think He does, but that doesn't mean He isn't there to help and comfort me through each hurt. It doesn't mean that He doesn't have a way through it to make me a stronger person. Some people are comforted to think God "dots each i and crosses each t". Somehow, I am not. I like to think that he appreciates and is proud, just like a parent, that I am maturing and capable, though desiring His advice and help, not completely independent of Him. After all, I'm still His child and He, like a parent may, occasionally, need to intervene for my benefit. I am okay with that. 

I don't know. I'm still trying to figure out what I believe. Why does it have to be such a muddle to me?