I hate pain.

Pain.  

Hurt.

Disappointment.

Rejection.

Loss.

These words hold so much punch.  We all face these things.  They are normal.  Yet, there is nothing normal about the burn that comes through their experience.

Take death for example.  Death is something that we will all face.  In some cultures death is very open.  When I taught in Vietnam I was looking out my window at the street.  There was a bus slowly making it's way down the street with a group of people surrounding it.  As I watched one person would enter through it's side door, cry out, scream, etc., and eventually exit through the back where they were embraced by other mourners.  The next person would follow.  

Here, where I call home, I know when someone has died by the stream of cars cushioned by patrol officers.  Faces are often tightened, or tears drop silently.  Publicly there rarely seems to be more.

For myself, when faced with death I have found myself to be an overflowing fountain that silently bubbles over until I can find a room where nobody can see me, and then the mourning is fresh, ugly, raw, full.

Which is better?  I'm not sure.  Does it matter?  What does matter?  The sting of death, no matter how much expected, is fresh.  I think the real question is - what do we do when faced with it?  

Seasons come in my life.  Seasons where I experience more pain than I would care to.  It can be caused by well-meaning people who are careless in relationships.  Other times it can be caused by my fears, worries, or choices.  Most of the time it is a messy combination of both.  Either way, I squirm in the experience of each encounter I have with the words listed at the beginning of this piece.  However, these experiences are normal, and should be expected.  Yet, they burn.  They burn new and fresh and carry the fragrance of familiarity.  The scent doesn't cover their pain, but simply brings in the familiarity of their experiences from past occasions.

I work hard in relationships.  I work hard in myself.  But, how do I face them?  

My gut instinct?  To harden my heart, throw up my middle finger, say "screw you," and run like the dickens.  My heart of hearts?  To stay, to open myself to them, to ask questions to try to understand, to hear their side, share my own, and come to a place of peace.  However, staying true to my heart takes a level of restraint that can at times seem impossible.

Why do I pick my heart's direction?  I want to grow.  I want to be alive.  I don't want to grow cold, stale, and experientially dead.  For some reason, I don't want to give up on people.  I want all wrongs righted.  I want healing.  I want reconciliation where possible. 

The pain that comes with choosing these things is excruciating at times.  The reward is mostly worth it when it comes to the outcome of the conversations.  When I am left with a one-sided situation where reconciliation is denied - whether clearly or passively with lies - the pain is still worth it.  The value comes in knowing I gave my heart to them, and did not hold back the care and concern for their own even in the fumbling of my own short-comings and failures.

I want to honor God, and I think honoring Him is loving others even when it means I have to experience more pain.  I think it looks like sacrificing my need/desire to be right, have things go my way, or feel good. 

It isn't easy, and honestly, I couldn't choose it on my own.  

Right now I am struggling with pain from others, and today won't be my last day experiencing fresh pain intertwined with dull familiarity.  It is a daily choice, and today I choose to be honest with where I am.. maybe not to the people involved, but definitely to myself, God and Jon.  I choose to step down the path of loving the people, and embrace what that will look like.  Right now it means forgiving the pain experienced, remembering the hearts of the people involved, taking an honest look at myself, and choosing to go forward in loving them - whatever it looks like.  Tomorrow, if the pain resurfaces, and is stronger, I may find myself going with my gut instinct as I talk it out with God (recall giving the bird)... but in the end choosing to love them and myself.  I have to rely on God for this choice, and I am so grateful for each day I choose it.