Conjoined Twins

I wasn’t expecting that.

I wasn’t expecting to find sorrow and joy so intimately intertwined.  Conjoined twins so to speak. But, it was reassuring to see it put in such a hopeful way - that sorrow is not an end in itself.  It’s a preparation for something… something better.  There is, there will be an end to it.

I also never realized to this extent how instrumental experiences of grief and suffering are to our experiences of joy.  I didn’t really understand that without sorrow our capacity for joy either stagnates or is diminished. As long as we are on this earth and in this body, perpetual happiness - joy upon joy upon joy - actually causes our internal joy-processing organ to atrophy. In this world, sorrow helps our heart grow so it can embrace even more joy - not just quantitatively but also different kinds of joy.

I know this is a very old truth.

James says,

Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials… James 1:2

But, I argue with it because I hate being in pain.  

I dread watching those I care for hurt. 

I super-dislike what seems to me as meaningless suffering.  

Sometimes I catch myself hard at work, trying to eliminate, sanitize, scrub out of my own and my loved ones’ lives all sorrow.  Futile attempt, of course, nevertheless one I gravitate towards whenever I encounter any kind of affliction.

Given that suffering in this life is unavoidable I need a new set of lenses to view it when it comes my way.

I am not necessarily going to enjoy it… better choice of word would be endure, but I can endure it without resentment, in confident hope that it is doing its important job of preparing me for and enlarging my capacity for future joy.


... fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Hebrews 12:2