On What To Do With All The Hurt

There are hateful things that happen in life.  There just are.  I felt another blow against the jaw of my spirit tonight.  There are people in the world that don't like me.  There are people in the world that actually delight in my pain, and you know what? Every single time they shoot an arrow of hate into my world, it causes me pain. People like that tend to learn to get really good at inflicting pain.  They hone their skills until they know their darts are going to hit just the right spot.  I have some people in my world like that just like I'm sure you do too. It's just....

"What do I do with the hurt though?" I asked my husband.  I continued "Do I get mad and yell? Do I counter attack? Do I just fall in a heap and cry?"

What do you do....with all the hurt?

I am a Christ follower.  When I was a little girl, I watched my mom's prayers be answered and my dad's life change.  I watched my brother get baptized in a church because, as I'd been told, he had chosen to give the debt that he could not meet himself to the God Who promised to do it.  It piqued my interest, and I started really listening.  It did not take long at all for me to decide as a little girl that I wanted Jesus.  I remember little else except that I knew I needed Jesus and I wanted Him.  So I went to Him.  I gave my whole everything to a One I had never seen because I knew to my very depths that He was the author of things and the One that loved me the most.  I knew it then.  I knew even in my funny little honest heart that there was already just enough imperfection in my life that would be enough to taint the beauty of who He was, and I knew that He was the only One that COULD erase the stains and He promised that He WOULD do it, and I believed Him.  I know thinking about a sinful 6 year old seems a bit weird, but the sin that can stain a heart can be one maliciuos or dishonest thought.  We don't go around accusing little kids of trying to harness the power of Satan.  One little tiny stain can mar the appearance of the whitest, most beautiful, precious fabric. One thing can cause it to lose the "qualification" of "mint condition".  Now, the point at which a human actually chooses wrong and creates that stain is something that God does not even offer us with a specific number.  There are little sweet children who get diseases through no fault of their own and their life is snuffed out.  Do I think that, just because my heart realized at 6 that I wanted and needed God that every 6 year old (or even children older) also have that ability and would be sent to a damned hell?  No.  I don't.  I know a God that loves children and would not be so cruel to cast away a one whose heart never knew they betrayed Him in the first place.  If you want to know what age a person needs to be when God decides it's okay to damn a soul to hell, I think you and I need to talk further about the Daddy I know.  Either way, for whatever reason, at 6, I knew I wanted this Abba, and I accepted Him.

Over the course of my life, just like all of you, I have encountered pain that is bringing tears stinging into my eyes right at this moment.  I have a catch in my throat right now as my brain rattles off a portion of the list my brain can't help but remember of the times my heart broke as part of it was ripped away or buried in the ground. Hurt changes us.  Sometimes we make poor decisions, and we hurt as a result, but I'm really talking here of the hurts we don't deserve:

"We did everything we could"
"He....he passed away"
"It's cancer"
"There's someone else"
"It's gone...it's all gone"

That list.  The stuff you never asked for and you know you didn't deserve.  I can't even find a way to articulate the level of absolute anguish...the hurt.

It's so nearly impossible to figure out what to do with the hurt because I just feel so annoyed every single time I see someone go through something and decide to slap some stale smile on their face saying it's all going to work out while they walk around like they're in some barbituate induced haze.

No.  I want to know what I'm supposed to DO...with this.  After that initial trust fall into the world of being a little Christ - a kid of God's, the whole blind faith thing was never my dig.  I'm going to be straight up with you.  I do not take much of anything at face value.  I'm going to need to see some goods.

That's...just not always a favor life lends, I'm afraid.  Instead of being given a plan of attack leaked from the camp of my enemy, my life has reflected more that I would need to learn how to heal quickly and be better ready and less vulnerable for the next time some force in life charged towards me.   This is what we all TRY to do, but, as I listed above, there are things that rain down over your life that can in no way be anticipated.  The crash down like an avalanche of boulders and leave what looks like nothing but a pile of crumbs.  And you had absolutely no way to know it was coming, and you in no way deserved it.  It just came and took away so, so much...and it hurts.

So then what?  I believe - my personal belief - is that my Abba, my heavenly Daddy, is watching.  He is watching, and not passively.  He is involved.  There are things He sends my way for my benefit, and there are times He decides that there is something beautiful that can grow if He allows something to cause me pain.  No.  That is not cruel, and no that is not twisted.  I let my 15 month old baby fall...all..the...time.  She actually does it less and less now, but there are still times when I choose to stay seated as I watch her take a step that is unsure me knowing the whole time that her effort is going to result in pain.  Her little legs are going to plop right down onto the edge of the step she was trying to conquer.  Why do I do that?  Because if I didn't, she never would learn how much it actually takes to conquer that little step in her journey.  Because I let her experience temporary pain that makes my heart hurt and I audibly cringe, I know that the next time she faces that step, she's going to know better what to do. I don't shield her from growing stronger.  It's so hard.  I wish I could scoop her up and swaddle her in her ring sling and nurse her away from all of the hard things...and she would become weak and intolerable.

I am God's girl.

Now let's get one thing straight here.  If Audrey loses her footing and falls as I illustrated above, I will let her learn.  It will make me sad, but I will let her do that.  I will not sabotage her growth.  But you best believe that if I watch something or someone come slithering her way to do her harm, their freedom to move in her life is going to be extremely limited.  I may watch as someone gives her an ill-deserved shove or steals a treasure from her chubby little hands...but not for long.  They don't get endless chances...I'm watching.  You can ask my older kids - I am that momma who is NOT afraid to march right up to a playground bully that I've watched terrorize the swings and monkey bars for a time and say to them "You need to keep your hands to yourself and leave my child alone.  It's time for you to find you mommy or daddy or whomever brought you to this facility".   This action, however, is reserved for use for times when I can see that someone has intent to cause my child harm or damage.  God is the same.  I am His kid.  God does not have patience for evil.  It may seem like the right people never actually have to answer for the way they damage others, but my God Daddy is a just God.  He is watching His babies.

So there is a way to process how going through horrible things brings me to a place of growth, but that wasn't my question to my husband.  My question was "What do I do with the hurt?" What do I do with the welted, red skin of where someone just slapped their way around my life?  What do I do with what feels like a broken bone or a bloody bruise in my spirit from where life circumstances or someone's evil heart decided they'd just smack me around or snap things in two? What do I do while it still hurts?

You know the only answer I have?  Cry.

There is a vast gulf fixed between wallowing in self pity or bitterness and just crying because things still hurt where the damage occurred.

If it hurts, cry. Literally or figuratively.

Audrey does.  And if she falls or someone is awful to her or anything in this cruel, broken world causes her pain and she DOES cry, I don't look at her and say "Welp, guess THAT one's done in.  Well THAT one probably won't be good for much" and then walk away.  Sometimes, I scoop her up and hold her close.  For this hard-headed kid though, a lot of times, I watch.  I let her cry out and make her voice loud if she needs to.  I let her squeeze out a few tears.  I don't ever tell any of my children not to cry if something hurts.  I make effort to never dismiss a hurt of their hearts, minds or bodies.  I engage it.  I let them utter their pain in the way that their life needs while the pain is still happening from what hurt them.  And then we begin again the whole process of taking more steps in this journey.

I'm sorry.  I'm sorry I don't have a more magic answer.  I'm sorry that beyong the knowledge that most adult people have that hard things help you grow, I don't have much for while the hurt still...hurts.  But I feel comfortable in telling you that the choice I have made for this time while my own hurts are hurting, I cried.  I'm going to do some more crying probably, and I may cry about this particular thing at different points all throughout my life.  Like it may actually make me hurt in the future.

So while we know that we will be given something good in exchange for the wrending apart of our hearts, when it comes to while you're still hurting, I say....just go ahead and cry.