Awakening

So often I get these questions from my clients - or even from friends, family, and myself...

What is the purpose of pain? 

What is the reason for hardship?  

Why must we struggle sometimes?

I don't know.  I have these on my list of things to ask Jesus when I get to Heaven.  That list is long.

But here's what I do know about those questions.  Pain, hardship, struggle don't have to overcome us. They can be part of a developmental process we must go through in order to be the truest and most beautiful version of ourselves.  If the caterpillar didn't struggle, it wouldn't become a butterfly.

So what would it look like to embrace pain?  To welcome hardship?  To lean into the struggle?  I'm not sure what that looks like for each person reading this.  But what is universal to everyone is that when we go to our deepest feelings - when we are forced to look at the most vulnerable parts of ourselves, we are AWAKENED. We free those painful parts from their bondage. And we become a victor rather than a victim to our circumstances. 

You have all heard me talk so much about our adoption process. I can't help it.  It's the season of my life that has taught me more than I ever wanted to know about pain, fear, disappointment, hardship, and struggle.  And as we near the end of waiting, I can review this journey as a true healing and anointing place in my life.  I am almost a butterfly version of myself.  And I like her so much more. I am awake.  I had to face these struggles to get to my truest SELF - and I still face struggles and still seek myself daily.  That is the promise of living.

So whatever "embracing your struggle" looks like, I want to share a poem I wrote this morning on a stormy day in Nashville:

Awakening
By: Laura Melrose Ramey

Good morning, day! Good morning, rain!
Can you see my sorrow and pain?
Can your dawn make something new?
Can your drops make my drops few?

Can you hear my shame-filled heart
Cry for cleansing and a fresh start?
Does your work carry dark and gloom?
Or can this downpour make beauty bloom?

I hear it play like music outside,
And I won't fear. I won't hide.
I can trust the sun will come again.
This rain, this day - they restore within.

So I listen and welcome you - oh, dark and dreary,
Because I know my soul won't always be weary.
You invite me to stillness while you pour out,
And I let go of fear, worry, and doubt.

I can find peace, although still shaken.
Because your song invites me to awaken.
Thank you, day! Thank you, rain!
For seeing and washing my sorrow and pain.