Sacred ground?!
Suffering is sacred ground?
Suffering is an awful thing. It has great weight. It can block, drag, pull, and crush. It can be like a huge rock rolling downhill, picking up speed as it goes. It did so in my life, on many occasions. It does so in all our lives, off and on, off and on. It can be relentless.
And, yet, there is something we can do, but we often don’t choose to do it. Why?
We can imagine that suffering, that rolling horrible rock come to a dead stop as it smashes into the foot of the Cross. Opening ourselves to this image is the most effective thing we can do, but, again, we don’t often do it, and the why belongs to a great misunderstanding and a great fear. The misunderstanding has to do with the ongoing nature of suffering. It won’t necessarily go away as we hear the thud of its contact with the Cross. So when the suffering remains, we think, well, what good is this imagining stuff? I’m still suffering. We think our part ends there, but, oh, that’s just the beginning of an epic about to unfold!
But epics — grand journeys — are fearful, right? We want relief now, and we expect that relief to come in the form of no more suffering. We may be getting the hint that relief is hiding somewhere else, within us, within this new relationship with the Person of God who sacrificed himself on that Cross. There’s treasure there waiting for us, and it’s a treasure we can see and understand precisely because of our suffering. It is a treasure we can receive because of what God can do within us — to our perceptions, our priorities, our beliefs — in the midst of suffering, things we couldn’t have received otherwise.
Reflection
Let’s spend a few posts together pondering how God makes suffering a sacred ground for us. What gifts might we be able to receive if we choose to tolerate this time with God?
Prayer
Dear God, you’re supposed to be all-powerful. You’re supposed to remove what hurts us and give us what our hearts desire, especially if what we desire is good for us and those around us. But you don’t! Give me the courage to remain here with you and allow you to teach me, Lord. Even when the answers don’t come right away, may I stay here and listen, knowing you are giving me the grace to do just that: stay here and listen. Amen.