Yes, that is the question of the day.  But today I think I found the answer.  At least my answer anyway.  It’s not the obvious answer, it’s not what I thought it was all these years.  Today my revelation came and it was a surprise.  I thought I went to the gym for my body.  Turns out I go as much for my mind and my spirit as my body.  I go for the people.

Today revealed that truth to me even though today at the gym was just like all my other days at the gym, nothing out of the ordinary.  But I realized that the ordinary at my gym is really quite extraordinary.  Why?  Because the people there are extraordinary.  Oh, not to the casual observer, perhaps.  We all look like the ordinary people that we are.  And yet when I learn their stories, get to see beneath the surface, I am encouraged and inspired in so many ways.

Today one woman showed up for our exercise class in an orthopedic boot.  She had broken her foot.  I have already written to you about my friend who comes to exercise class hooked up to her portable oxygen, which she has given a name and dresses in appropriate seasonal garb, to the delight and amusement of us all.  If I need to be encouraged not to give up (on anything) I just need to get myself to my fitness class at the gym.

Today was no exception.  I learned that a fellow classmate (who usually is next to me in the back row) has recently been signed and embarked upon a professional modeling career even though she is in her late fifties.  This requires no stretch of the imagination to believe in that she is tall and beautiful.  But this is usually a goal pursued by much younger women with only varying degrees of success.  So to me it speaks of hope in seeing things come to pass, of not giving up.   Then I noticed everyone signing a card, which turned out to be a wedding card for one of the exercise class members.  Remarkable!  Unexpected!  She is eighty-four years old and getting married!  I love knowing this because it gives me hope.  If this can happen for her, maybe this can happen for me too.  I should not count out any possibilities in life.  It is not too late!

So I went in to the gym to give my body a work out and came out of the gym inspired, uplifted, connected and reminded once again that everybody has a story. And I draw inspiration and hope from each of these stories.  If my body was strengthened as much as my heart and my spirit were today, then I really had a good workout!  And my commitment to keep on showing up, to not give up, was renewed once again as I spent time with these very ordinary, totally extraordinary people.  Did I mention my friend who walks the walking/running track daily with her cane?  I don’t need to look far for reminders of resilience and perseverance when I’m there.

God wants us to take care of our bodies and He wants us to renew our minds and uplift our spirits.  Apparently, I can do all three at my gym.  What a revelation! How thankful to God I am for all my gym friends, who are such encouragements and inspirations, God’s gifts to me.  They remind me to never give up.  Which reminds me that God never gives up on me.  God never gives up on any of us.  God never gives up on you, dearest reader.

“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God?  You are not your own; you were bought at a price.  Therefore honor God with your body.”  (1 Corinthians 6:19-20)

“Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.  Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is — His good, pleasing and perfect will.”  (Romans 12:2)

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things.”  (Philippians 4:8)

“The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”  (Deut. 31:8)

“Where can I go from Your Spirit?  Where can I flee from Your presence?  If I go up to the heavens, You are there;  if I make my bed in the depths, You are there.  If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast.”  (Psalm 139:7-10)

“The Lord appeared to us in the past, saying: ‘I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness.'”  (Jeremiah 31:3)

” . . . And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:20)

sincerely,         Grace Day

 

if you visited me in my home right now, you would think you had entered some kind of time warp.  You would know something is not right, even if you couldn’t put your finger on just what that was.  You would find yourself checking your phone, not for missed calls or for the time, but to verify the date.  Why?  because you would be confused by what you are seeing in my home.

You would notice the nativity or manger scene still on display in the family room. And you would think to yourself, “doesn’t she know Christmas is over?”  Perhaps you would be too polite to say anything or maybe you yourself are one of those people I have heard about who leave their Christmas trees up all year long, in which case you would not think twice about my nativity scene still being on display.  It would seem perfectly normal to you, not even getting your attention. You would not know that Procrastination has become my new middle name.

But then you would see the heart shaped valentine placemats and valentine candles on the kitchen table and perhaps say to yourself, “does she think it’s still February?  Why hasn’t she moved on?”  Then adding to your confusion, you would discover that there was a fairly large construction paper Easter bunny, big ears and all, displayed prominently on the mantle.  (courtesy of my son when he was in preschool )

“Well, at least she got that right”, you might think to yourself, seeing as how Easter is only a couple of days away.  And so you would be witness to the mingling of the seasons inside my home, which didn’t happen until now, when procrastination became my middle name.  (and may soon become my new first name)

But this got me to thinking . . . (usually a good thing)  How appropriate to have my nativity still out at Easter time, more accurately called Resurrection Sunday. Why? Because that baby in the manger grew up to become the Christ on the cross. That’s why He came in the first place.  What better way to remind myself of that truth than to display the symbols of both holidays simultaneously?

And then there are those heart placemats, so visible in my kitchen, the heart of any home.  Valentine’s is a holiday of the heart.  And that’s why Jesus came; He came to win our hearts, to heal our hearts, to renew our hearts, to give us new hearts, hearts of flesh and not of stone, hearts that He can write His law upon, hearts that only He can make clean and new and totally His.  Jesus came to give us each a heart transplant, so that we might have eternal life.

My heart placemats are also reminding me tonight and this Easter of Jesus’ love for me.  Jesus showed me His love by dying on that cross in my place to pay for my sin, and then He conquered death by rising on the third day.    That’s why I celebrate Resurrection Sunday.  Jesus lives and because He does, I can too.  My heart has hope because He lives.

So I guess my mingling of the seasons has some sense behind it, even though it wasn’t intentional.  Who knows?  maybe I’ll start a new decorating trend! Anyway, happy Christmas, Valentine’s and Easter to you all, dear readers!

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of  flesh.”   (Ezekiel 36:26)

“She will give birth to a son, and you are to give Him the name Jesus, because He will save His people from their sins.”  (Matthew 1:21)

sincerely,      Grace Day

 

 

a whole new world, yes I have been introduced to the wonderful world of pickleball.  I have entered in and my life will never be the same.  What a game!  It’s like tennis light, ping-pong on steroids, with a bit of backyard badminton thrown in for good measure.  So a little something for everyone.  And it’s fun, which a game should be or what’s the point, right?  But  I think what I like best about pickleball is its’ name.  Although the ball is not shaped like a pickle, (because then it would not be a ball) it is green.  Maybe pickleball will become an Olympic sport?  After all, curling is an Olympic sport.  Enough said.  I rest my case.  Also, badminton and table tennis are already in the Olympics, so pickleball is a logical addition.  At any rate, I give a shout out to my new found friends in the pickleball community, and especially to my pickleball mentor (you know who you are) thanks for taking me in!  Long live pickleball!

sincerely,         Grace Day

time stands still, time flies by;   I behold both but am powerless to alter either —- I cannot speed her up, I cannot slow her down though I desire to do both, depending on the circumstance;

time takes from me those I love, she marches on,  leaving the form of her footprints on my face and hollows in the holes of my heart, the places where the glaciers form, frozen in time,  unaware that she has moved on or just unwilling to acknowledge her passing

time is the keeper of my moments, the stealer of my days;  she stores up my memories for me, all the while running out on me —-   she drags on or slips away unnoticed,  as suits her mood in the moment,  or is it my mood in that moment she gives deference to?

I race against time constantly, calling her by her more common name, the clock; lamenting to no one in particular and to everyone I meet, that there is not enough of her, enough to meet my needs, enough to satisfy that which I seek

she is a formidable adversary, time — I must find a way to make her my ally, to win her over, that she might serve me, rather than I serving her —- “serving time” with all that it implies,  there are so many kinds of prison . . .

like the tide, time takes what she will, in return leaves unexpected gifts behind for me to discover, while she marches on —-  to return in predictable pattern, she scours the contours of my very being with each ebb and flow of her tide, moment by moment, with her “sands “, and like the pebbles on the beach, once rough, now smooth and beautiful,  time’s handiwork displayed for anyone who would take notice,  my rough edges are disappearing as time travels on taking me with her whether I wish to go or not . . .

time takes my youth, leaves me wisdom in her wake;  she brings me a new perspective, a view I have not seen before, a view not possible to behold until time takes me there and gives me new eyes with which to view what she would show;   another of her secret gifts,  “time will tell” we say,  and we are more right than we know,  time shares her secrets with me when she is ready,  on her own timetable and no one else’s, “in due time” as we are so fond of saying —

time marches to her own drummer,  I have my own drummer too,  we do not seem to be in sync, time and I;  I will the sunset to linger longer,  I pray the storm passes quickly ——   neither heed my powerless command,  time is the sovereign that they serve,    their ticking taskmaster, turning moments into days, days into months, months into years, years into lifetimes, lifetimes into the history that marks our past and shapes our future.

Time takes her toll and gives her gifts;  her gift of hindsight comes wrapped in the wisdom gained simply by surviving her test, we call it “the test of time.”  It’s one we all take, no exceptions.  When time takes those I love she leaves rich memory behind to keep me company in their place.   She is not altogether cruel.

time will cease to be one day,  there will be no clocks on heaven’s walls, no expiration dates, no deadlines, no due dates,  . . .     eternity will swallow her up into timelessness;  time will not run out on me in heaven,  she will not be in short supply —   eternity is full of time — timeful, if you will;  infinite, unending time,  so filled up and overflowing with time as to be timeless.

In eternity I will rest from time,  she will no longer determine the measure of my days

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:”  (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

“All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.”  (Psalm 139:16)

“I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.”  (Revelation 22:13)

“Before the mountains were born or You brought forth the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting You are God.  . . .    For a thousand years in Your sight are like a day that has just gone by, or like a watch in the night.”  (Psalm 90:2,4)

sincerely,     Grace Day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Could be just a semantic distinction, as a fine line separates the two.  Hoarding is a distinctly western if not exclusively American phenomenon.  Hoarding is so pervasive in our culture as to inspire a TV series by that name; so prevalent as to be a threat to even the most austere among us.

We don’t become hoarders overnight.  It’s a long, slow process which can go unnoticed until the results are staring us in the face or, more to the point, surrounding us on a daily basis.  We can become comfortable with our clutter if we’re not careful.  It’s familiar, we get used to it.

Why is hoarding a distinctly American problem?  Because you have to have an abundance in order to store up extra stuff that you are not currently using.  Third world peoples do not have this problem of “too much stuff” taking up space in their homes (if they have homes) and their lives.  Just watching an episode of “Hoarders, Buried Alive” on TV is enough to remind anyone that abundance can be a blessing or a burden.  It seems to me what makes the difference between the two is whether we share or hang onto what we have.

After watching some episodes of “Hoarders” it seems to me that people will save/hoard anything from trash to treasure.  And to some there is no difference or distinction between the two.  For some, maybe life is filled with so much loss that they just can’t bear to lose another thing.  So they hang on to what they can and lose their own lives in the process, or at least the quality of their lives for sure.

For others it may be they feel the loss of control in their lives, so hanging on to things gives the illusion of control, until our things began controlling us and our lives.  It is then we realize that we didn’t gain control, we actually lost it.  Hoarders hang their hopes on holding on to their stuff.  People may come and go but the stuff stays.

Hoarding interferes with relationships.  Our stuff prevents people from entering our homes and our lives.  It is one of life’s ironies that in other countries their problems stem from a lack, a lack of food or water or shelter or medicine or clothing; while here problems stem from an abundance, our over abundance; over shopping, overspending, debt, greed, stealing to acquire more things, always wanting more, not being thankful for what we do have, abundance can be a blessing or a curse.

James said something interesting about this, “Listen, my dear brothers: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom He promised those who love Him?”  (James 2:5)  The intangible things (like faith, hope, love, joy) are more valuable than the tangible things we spend so much effort seeking after here.

2 Corinthians 4:18 affirms this saying, “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

” . . . give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread.  Otherwise, I may have too much and disown You and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’ Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of  my God.”  (Proverbs 30:8-9)

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.  But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19-21)

Good advice for us all in this age of abundance.  Let’s not be held prisoner by our possessions but “let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”  (Hebrews 12:1)

sincerely,        Grace Day

every day IS truly a gift from God and every person God allows into my life is also truly a gift from my Heavenly Father.  This being said, there are some days and there are some people that I wish came complete with a gift receipt so that I could return or exchange these particular gifts.   I guess that’s where my faith and trust get put to the test  (a test I’m still taking, by the way)

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”  (James 1:17)

” ‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’ ”  (Jeremiah 29:11)

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”  (Romans 8:28)

“And my God will meet all your needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus.”  (Philippians 4:19)

maybe God doesn’t give out gift receipts with His gifts because He doesn’t want me to use them and in so doing to miss any of what He will use to grow me into the person He created me to be in Christ  . . .

” . . . though now for a while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials.  These have come so that your faith — of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire — may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.”  (1 Peter 1:6-7)

sincerely,         Grace Day

 

that’s the only explanation I can come up with . . .  and Target apparently was targeted.  I’m a Target shopper and Target was one of the first to switch to chip readers.  Along with that switch from swipe card to insert card came the signal (or more accurately labeled the alarm) instructing me to remove my card.  This signal was a strident, persistent, repetitive, annoying buzzer sound that did not stop until my card was removed from the chip reader.

Now this is a good thing because no one wants to leave the store without their credit card, including me.  Of course, back when we swiped our cards, this alarm wasn’t necessary because our card never left our hands.  Anyway, someone must have complained about this loud, jarring buzzer sound because now when I check out at Target the signal for me to remove my card is a soft, melodic, chiming sound, which repeats itself, much to my delight.  This sound is so beautiful that I actually want to hear it again.  Truth be told, I have been known to leave my card in a moment or two longer than necessary just to continue listening to this harmonious, soothing sound.

Target may want to rethink this, if the chimes are slowing things down too much at checkout.  Come to think of it, I bet it was the cashiers who complained about the buzzer sound.  After all, they are the ones who have to listen all day long to one sound or the other.

The previous loud buzzer sound produced in me a sense of alarm, even urgency. The current chiming sound invites me to take a breath, to relax, to enjoy the moment.  Of course, the buzzer sound is doing its’ job.  I should be alarmed at the prospect of leaving my card behind in the store and I should be quick to retrieve my card.  (I’m sure all those waiting in line behind me would agree with that last statement)  Although acting quickly is probably more a function of just wanting that loud buzzing noise to stop, than of anything else.

The blaring buzzer sound says in effect, “danger, danger, your card is in imminent danger, please rescue or retrieve it immediately before it is lost, mangled beyond recognition or eaten by the evil chip reader.”    On the other hand, the chimes sing sweetly, “There’s no hurry to remove your card.  In fact, you can leave your card with us if you like.  We’ll take good care of it and keep it safe for you until your next visit”.  (kinda reminds me of the Sirens from the Odyssey, come to think of it)

That same week there was a fire drill at school.  But I did not recognize it as a fire drill.  There was no blaring, deafening, buzzer sounding repeatedly.  Instead there was a faint bell, sounding intermittently.  There was nothing urgent nor alarming about the signal.  But this signal was significantly easier on my ears.  The old fire drill alarm was literally painful to hear, it hurt my ears.  I wanted to get away from that sound as soon as possible.  But who am I to question such a change?  such progress?

The old signal was a demand, a requirement; uncomfortable and incessant, it drove us out of the building, burning or not.  Its’ replacement is more of a suggestion to exit the building if you feel like it.  And by the way, feel free to do so in your own time and at your own pace, it adds.  Danger can’t be that imminent, the faint tone reassures us.  There is no need for you to hurry.

Sometimes I think we live our lives as if all the warning signals are gone and in their place are sweet sounding reassurances and popular mantras such as “there will always be more time”, or “it doesn’t really matter what you do” or “just this once” or “do your own thing”, “have it your way”, “go with your gut” or “you don’t have to make a decision, you don’t need to leave the comfort of where you are now”, “you should do what you want to do or what seems right to you” or “it’s not really that  bad/harmful/dangerous/wrong/unkind”.  But I wonder  . . .

“There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death.”  (Proverbs 14:12)

Am I fooling myself?  Am I not heeding the warning signals God sends my way to protect me?  Or have I allowed these signals to be replaced with more agreeable and comfortable ways of thinking —  something that “sounds” more pleasing to me, just as the chimes do.  And so I wonder  . . .

“The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’ ”   (Psalm 14:1)

“They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator –who is forever praised.  Amen.”  (Romans 1:25)

“But God said to him, ‘Fool!  Tonight you die.  Then who will get it all?’ ”  (Luke 12:20)

” . . . then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve,  . . .  But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”  (Joshua 24:15)

I have to make that choice everyday, who will I serve?  God is still in the business of saving us from ourselves, if we want to be rescued.  Our culture may be replacing God’s alarms or warnings with its’ own sweeter sounding mantras — but God’s word still stands, speaking truth and life into our lives today.

“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”  (John 8:32)

“I tell you, now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation.”  (2 Cor. 6:2)

God’s word is both a warning and an invitation;  a warning to the wise and an invitation to “whosoever will”.   His word is both buzzer and chime.

sincerely,                    Grace Day

 

 

Yes, I have and I haven’t landed yet.  I am mid-jump (if that’s even a thing?) and while free falling I’m thinking how appropriate or ironic (take your pick) it is that my very first blog post back in July 2016 was simply, “welcome to my new blog, maybe.  technical difficulties are ruling currently/ stand by”

well, nothing much has changed since then.  Technology continues to be a thorn in my side.  We continue to do battle on a daily basis.  The thing is, I respect technology.  I acknowledge my need of her in order to accomplish many vital tasks each day.  I even wonder how I ever got along without her.  But she continues to give me the cold shoulder and a hard time, even though I need her help now more than ever.

You see, I have gone back to school, I am taking a college class.  I am good with the reading, the lectures, the homework; all that is involved.  The problem?  Things have changed since I was last in school.  Now you have to submit your homework electronically online, which means you have to DO your work electronically as well.  This means I need a password and a username and I need to create files and save things and attach things to other things.

Who knew?  Okay, probably everybody BUT me knew.  Did I mention it has been “awhile” since I was actually in college?  Let me just say that things have changed, as they tend to do.  Back in the day,  when I was in school, we used paper and pen and a typewriter and we handed our assignments (which were on paper) in to the professor in person.

Needless to say, the old excuse, “the dog ate my homework”, is no longer believable nor is it accepted.  It has been replaced with such gems as, “my hard drive crashed”, “my password doesn’t work anymore”, “I pressed ‘save’ but it ended up deleted”, and my personal favorite, ” the cloud lost my homework and I can’t get it back.  Can you talk to the cloud for me?”

Currently, I have a technical support team of experts working round the clock to fix my technological kinks, so that I might be able to submit my classwork through the approved online site.  Okay, really they are three of my neighbors, but these ladies are all best friends with technology and if they can’t help me then there is no help for me.  Hopefully, they will put in a good word for me with technology.  In the meantime, I so appreciate their kindness, patience and help.

So my free fall continues, there is no going back.  (obviously, you can’t “un-bungee” once you jump)  I have put my hand to the plow, I am committed to successfully finishing this class.  And even to taking more classes!  Yes, I will bungee again — but first I have to complete this jump (or class as the case may be)

So wish me luck, dear readers, and tell technology to be nicer to me because I desperately need her cooperation and her help right now!

“Jesus looked at them and said, ‘With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible’.”   (Matthew 19:26)

“I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.”   (Philippians 4:13)

“And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.”   (2 Cor. 9:8)

sincerely,      Grace Day

so I got to thinking, if being “awful” is a bad thing, then is being “awless” a good thing?  It would stand to reason that this would be so.  The dictionary definition of awful includes the words, “horrible, disgusting, repulsive, terrible, nasty, odious”, as synonyms, so you get the idea.  Being “awless” or without these things would seem to be preferable to being full of them.

But I can’t get around the thought that to be awful is to be “full of aw” or actually full of awe.  And the definition of “awe” is “a feeling of reverential respect or fear or wonder or astonishment or amazement”.  Sure enough, the archaic definition of awful is, “inspiring reverential fear or wonder, impressive”.  So something that was awful used to be something or someone that was truly impressive or amazing, capable of inspiring reverence and wonder in the beholder, leaving them “full of awe”.  This is just the opposite of how we use the word awful today.

This got me to thinking about the word “wonderful”.  I would rather go through life full of a sense of wonder than without it, hence “wonderless”.  (not to be confused with “wanderlust”)  That’s what we all like about small children, they haven’t yet lost their sense of wonder.  To them, the world is still a magical, delightful place, full of new things just waiting to be discovered.  Every day is wonderful, full of the wonder of all God’s creation surrounding us, reminding us just how wonderful He is.

Many of us lose our sense of wonder somewhere along the way and wish that we could get it back.  I would rather walk through this world full of wonder than without it.  To be wonderless is to be lacking something essential in life’s journey. The ability to feel reverent fear and astonishment toward our Creator is necessary if we are to truly worship Him.

The song says He is an “awesome God” ,  but He is also an “awful” God in the truest sense of the word, meaning He is full of awe inspiring characteristics, such as His majesty and power and glory and omnipotence and eternality.  Realizing who God truly is should fill us with awe in His presence.

I want to live filled with wonder and awe in God’s presence.  If I lose these gifts, I will live a wonderless, aweless life, not the abundant life God intended for me. May my heart be full of awe and wonder when I worship Him.  He is the God of miracles and of mercy.  He alone is worthy of praise.

” . . .  I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of His robe filled the temple.   Above Him were seraphs,  . . . and they were calling to one another: ‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of His glory.'”(Isaiah 6:1-3)

“O Lord my God, You are very great; You are clothed with splendor and majesty. He wraps Himself in light as with a garment; He stretches out the heavens like a tent and lays the beams of His upper chambers on their waters.”  (Psalm 104:1-3)

truly wonderful, truly awful for sure,

sincerely,     Grace Day

 

 

 

that’s right, I’m continuing what I started in the earlier post, “when less is more”.  I just can’t help myself.  (am I helpless?)   but I’m thinking it’s good to be tireless in whatever we are doing, better than to be full of tire or tireful.  Tireless is defined as being hard-working, zealous, determined, tenacious, not giving up; all good things.  I want to live tireless, rather than full of tiredness, discouragement and defeat.  Here “less” is “more”.

I want to live shameless, not shameful.  Shame is a heavy burden to carry through life.  Christ didn’t mean for us to live full of shame, He came to take that burden from us. Here again, “less” is “more”; throw off everything that hinders and travel light through this life.  Which brings me to weightless and waitless.  I think I would choose both over weightful and waitful.  Maybe it’s just my heart that I want to be weightless, not weighed down by the cares of this world which at times become a crushing weight, too heavy to carry on my own.  And waitless would be wonderful, now wouldn’t it?  Imagine being without the wait in traffic, in store checkout lines, in doctors’ offices, in airports, on hold on the phone, etc.  This “less” would definitely be “more”, more time for . . . well, you fill in the blank.

Which brings me to painless.  Of course I want to live a painless life, not a painful one.  Who would choose a life full of pain over a life without pain?  But if my life is painless, I have to ask myself, am I alive?  am I living or merely existing?  I instinctively seek to avoid pain at all costs, both physical and emotional.  Yet it is pain that reminds me I am alive.  Physical pain reassures me that I am still among the living just as emotional pain confirms to me that I am human, that I am capable of feeling not only my own pain but the pain of others as well.

This is a gift, a gift our pain bestows on us that we do not discover until the pain subsides and with the low tide of our heart’s hurt, pain’s gift is revealed.  This gift, previously hidden in the waves of our pain, is now uncovered for us to claim as our own.  This gift, left there for us on a beach laid bare with the brokenness of our own heart’s grief, is our unexpected reward, replacing what the pain has stolen from us. The gift of empathy for all hurting souls.  The gift of being fully connected in our suffering to all who suffer and therefore the gift of being fully alive.  This is the gift of my pain.  This is the gift of your pain to you.

Physical pain is a lesser pain than emotional pain and is the more easily treated. We can take medicine for our muscular aches and pains, headaches etc.  and usually get a good result.  Emotional pain is much more devastating, debilitating and more difficult to treat.  We do have medicines to help, but there is really no cure for a broken heart.  And our hearts are broken more often than we would care to admit.  Our lives are full of loss, this is the price we pay for letting others into our lives.  The pain of loss is sharp but it beats the alternative, the pain of isolation in an attempt to keep from ever having to suffer loss.

After a workout at the gym I feel all kinds of aches and pains I didn’t feel before. They are a signal to me that I am still alive, (I have survived the workout) and that I am in the process of becoming stronger and more physically fit.  Pain is part of the process, it is a price I am willing to pay.  When my heart hurts I am assured that it is still working, even in its’ broken state.  I still have the ability to feel, my heart has not turned to stone.

The only way to go through life pain free is to go through life numb or with a heart of stone.  In our culture, which tells us we should avoid pain at all costs, we do everything we can to live a painless life and the cost is high.  Self medicating so as to “feel no pain” results in all kinds of life long addictions to alcohol, pain killers and multiple other legal and illegal drugs.  This is a high price to pay just to avoid feeling pain.

The thing is, if I can’t feel pain then I also can’t feel joy or love or hope or comfort or anything good.  I don’t choose pain, it finds me just as it finds you, dear readers. I wouldn’t choose pain but I have to admit that it’s been pain in my life that provides me the opportunity to grow closer to other people and to God.  It’s pain that teaches me empathy and compassion.  It’s pain that connects me to the hurting hearts of others.  It is pain that forces me beyond myself.  It is pain that forces me to change and to grow.

If I can’t feel my own pain then I can’t feel another person’s pain.  If I don’t acknowledge my own pain, I won’t be able to acknowledge another person’s pain. If I numb myself to my own pain, I will be oblivious to the suffering of those around me as well.  And if I am oblivious to their sufferings, then I cannot share them. I cannot show them care and compassion.  Compassion requires of me the ability to feel another’s hurt as if it were my own.  My pain has a purpose, a greater purpose beyond myself.

Living with a broken heart is preferable to living with a heart of stone.  I know as I walk in this world with my heart broken, it’s my Heavenly Father who fills the broken places and the empty spaces with His abiding, sustaining, all sufficient love.  Brokenness makes room for His presence.  A heart of stone feels no pain and lets no one in.  A heart of flesh will be bruised and battered and broken but its owner will experience the beauty God brings from such a heart that is fully His.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”  (Psalm 34:18)

sincerely,     Grace Day