I haven’t written in a while. I’ve resisted jumping into this topic. For months it seems, I’ve been pondering the topic of suffering and wanting to write about it. I’ve delayed because I couldn’t tell where it was going. I don’t think I have it all together now, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get to the bottom of it. I can tell however, that it eats at my subconscious day in and day out. Perhaps by spilling it in this post, I’ll find relief. It’s funny because I haven’t even written about this in my journal. Until I get passed this, I won’t be exploring other topics in the journal that need my attention. I’ve got to work through this mental block.

In complete fairness, I recognize that any suffering I feel is probably a 2 or 3 on a scale of 10. It’s pretty minimal when I consider the truly difficult trials others struggle with. I see real suffering in those around me, weights that I can’t begin to fathom such as addictions, abuse, crises of faith, unfulfilled dreams, financial setbacks, health challenges, PTSDs, and endless lists of other mental health disorders. So, I don’t compare my suffering to others, but I look at suffering as a necessary consequence of mortality, and I try to understand how to control it without it controlling me.

My trials tend to ebb and flow through days, weeks and even years. And not surprisingly, my trials never fall upon me in orderly sequence one at a time. More often than not, they gang up. They often overlap, and one additional trial may be all it takes to exceed my ability to manage carefully and rationally. There are times when I’ve seen a trial heading at me and known only “moments” in advance that suffering was soon to follow. In those instances, I’ve only had enough time it seems to take a deep breath, offer a silent prayer, and figuratively prepare my stance.

I can remember preparing for this mission last summer and recognizing we were embarking on a life altering journey. I knew it would change me. In fact, I remember praying and hoping I would be different, that I would be molded into a newer and more refined individual. Why should I be surprised that the process isn’t easy? Refining often involves heat and pressure administered under the watchful eye of the silversmith over a long period of time. Growth is change, and change is hard, it always has been for me. The trick is trusting in a process I can’t control, for an outcome I can’t foresee. I suppose that is a good definition of faith:

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1

I realize I’ve already written myself into a corner now. It would be easy to ask if it really is suffering if one brings the situation on oneself, clearly as an individual choice (like choosing to serve a mission). How can I compare trials that result from choices I make, to another who had no choice in his or her difficulty. I can’t address that here. I’m not prepared to go down that detour.

This post serves as an introductory argument and sets a context for what I really want to write about, which is how to take our suffering, no matter from where it comes, and regardless of any choice of our own to bring about the conditions that caused the suffering. How can I find meaning and value in my suffering? How can I have hope that the suffering will serve a useful purpose, that it will be for a greater good. I will attempt to use my words carefully. I am intimately aware of loved ones whom I have observed suffering for years and perhaps most of their lives. What I say in this post isn’t intended to minimize the hurt or be condescending. It’s simply that my philosophy of life is that our existence favors the good. When the whole of our lives is placed on a grand cosmic scale, every ounce of suffering will be counterbalanced with an enormous overabundance of good, heaping good, so much good that the tray of the scale can’t contain its fullness. The good will spill off and pool about the base of the scale and all suffering will literally be swallowed up and cancelled.

And so, I’ll end it here for now. In the coming days, I’ll proceed with what has been on my mind, and how I hope to understand the nature of my suffering.