Weeping may last for the night...

“I’ve heard self-pity described as the super-glue of hell,” Alison said.

Last night, she, Janell and I went to Payne’s. We laughed so hard we disturbed the other patrons, we discussed the Irish with a British barista/custard maker, we deliberated on the essence of psychological disturbance and we defied the lure of Satan’s lies as we joined together in intercessory prayer.

It might have been one of the best nights of my semester.

Thinking about it now, tears prick at my eyes. Too often I neglect to be thankful for my friends. This semester has taken us in so many different directions. Some of that is probably our coping mechanism to detach from Taylor in order to alleviate the burden of graduation. In less than a month, we will scatter. Although throughout the summer we will reunite for abbreviated spurts as four of our friends marry off, things will never be the same. This is the way of life. Movement, mutation, isolation.

It’s so easy, in light of such experience, to construct a bed of despair, recline and weep. I ache over inevitable exits, over broken friendships that may never be reconciled. Grief is good. There is a time to grieve; but there is also a time to rise from sackcloth and ash, to claim of the life offered me, to rejoice!

Josh Garrells sings, “In this world you will have trouble, but Jesus overcame the world.” Until we start living that Truth, self-pity is our only option. And like Alison so aptly stated, the cost of that option is far too great.

So what do we do with the grief we feel as a consequence to breathing in a world marred by brokenness? The solution begins with catharsis, with identifying our wounds and feeling them without reservation; but it cannot remain there. Soon we must move beyond awareness to actively seek healing for these wounds. In this way, we abandon self-pity.

Throughout the Bible, we see God healing people’s infirmities. He still offers that today, even if our only wounds are emotional in nature. It’s a continuous process that will never be perfected until we enter heaven, but we can begin to experience some degree of restoration even now. We cannot do it on our own, but it is our responsibility to choose to seek his will and experience the completeness we will only feel from him.

The tears may fall, the heart my wretch, but I will praise you, My LORD and Creator, for it is in you that I may find peace when I earnestly seek (and even sometimes when I don’t).