The Blessing of Brokenness

"Suffering is one of the sufferer's blessings." (Lament for a Son)

How can this be? How can I ask God for suffering when I beg for its removal in those times when it overwhelms me?

And yet... And yet in those moments of brokenness, of pain and sorrow, when I sit in dust and ashes: He is silent. Is that unexpected? I won't lie and say that I hear God speak in those places, but as Masters asked... "Of what use is language?" ("Silence") In our grief, there are few words that can provide comfort- who can know the meaning of suffering? But the presence of another, someone who understands and holds and loves, does not utter empty platitudes. That person is balm to the soul of that blessed mourner.

In the same way, God is the balm, the healing presence that supports us as we walk forward, slowly, staggering. God is the beauty amidst the ashes. Even as God's love is a suffering love, so must our love also be. I cannot be transformed into the likeness of Christ if I balk at the very thought of pain, for his pain was great. And when He walks with me, silent, there, I think I understand most deeply who He is and what He has done for me.

Break me, God, that in my pain and weakness, I will draw near to You. Fill the sores, the scars, the unhealed wounds. You are all I have and You are all I need. "Batter me, three person'd God, for you / As yet but knock; but breathe, shine, and seek to mend. / That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me..." ("Holy Sonnet 14")