of us likes physical pain. Burns, bruises, abrasions,
and breaks all hurt. But the agony of failure and the
ache of opposition affects us far more deeply. Fractured
friendships, fading dreams, and scuttled hopes quench
our spirit in ways that flesh wounds can't. A broken
limb may be more welcome than a broken heart
eventually, all of us walk the path of the deeply
assume that everyone will like us, agree with us, and
support us. But reality quickly dispels this idealism.
We don't travel far before experiencing a clash of
personality, values, style, or vision. Well-meaning
mentors urge caring people to develop "thick skin" but
such an action (if possible) merely paralyzes the
pastoral heart. The solution to our woundedness is not
denial or gritted determination but stillness and
attentiveness to God Himself .
Bible affirms that the Lord "gives a garland to replace
ashes, and the oil of gladness instead of mourning" (Isa
61.3). The darkness makes the Light shine even brighter.
Indeed, our most profound experiences of Him are born in
grief not comfort .
Spurgeon once noted that the tearing of the Temple veil
when Christ died (Matt 27.51), revealed God to the world
as He'd never been seen before. The rip produced
unprecedented revelation. In similar fashion, we often
encounter Him in the deepest and freshest ways when our
lives are rent asunder .
our comfort blinds us to His glorious and gracious
presence, might we not - strangely enough - rejoice when
the pain is acute. Suffering is not our enemy. And the
fellowship of suffering is not just a morbid delight
that others are struggling too. This sweet fellowship
emerges from the recognition that a sunrise follows the
darkness. But even more powerfully, He reveals Himself
more fully in our deepest brokenness. In an intensely
personal way, the rip produces unprecedented revelation,
prevailing desire of our day is pain management or pain
avoidance. For many of us, neither option may prove
possible or ultimately healthy. Conflict with others,
failures of our own, hardships in the home,
and heartaches from unraveling hopes are very real.
Perhaps we can neither manage nor avoid these
experiences, despite our best efforts. But we can
encounter His presence and in our torn lives discover
His fullness as never before.
tearing of our veils grieves us. We want glorious
tapestries, not frayed threads. But dashed security and
broken dreams can be the pathway to the Holy of Holies -
a place we have never visited before. Until the veil is
torn - veils of ambition, self-sufficiency, greed,
independence, and pride, to name just a few - the fuller
revelation of God remains hidden .
anguish can become our access, if we are still and