Don’t play in the water,
reminds the voice of caution.
You’re not prepared
in your silken slippers.
The mud will ruin
your clothes.
Stay away from the puddle,
no good can come
from sitting in the
muddy pool
water up to your eyeballs.
You could
die!
It may be deeper
than you know,
back up,
gather your skirts and run!
You could drown
in it.
But what if they’re
wrong?
The puddle of pain
my schooling
where the minnow
learns to swim,
the pollywog
finding its legs
straining
stretching
becoming.
I think I will sit here
with my pain
and learn what I need
to know.
A little water
won’t kill
me.
It’s our inherent reaction to run from pain, to avoid it at all costs, but pain finds us, and we have no choice but to confront it. If life is a coin, pain and sorrow are on one side just as surely as joy and fulfillment are on the other.
Would we be better off accepting that pain is part of life? I’m not suggesting we wallow in the difficult things that come our way, but neither should we run from them our whole lives so we never truly live for fear of pain.
I wonder if we could learn to sit with the pain of our emotions longer and learn from them instead of trying to shed ourselves of them prematurely? It’s like the figurative hot potato we want to toss before it burns our hands.
Pain can be our teacher, even if it takes years to understand what the lesson was. And sometimes, there may be no apparent lesson other than the fact that life on this side of heaven has pain attached to it. And maybe the nearest thing we can learn and be witness to is the presence of Jesus, who holds us afloat in the pain. That, too, is a lesson worth learning.
Mary Folkerts is mom to four kids and wife to a farmer, living on the southern prairies of Alberta, where the skies are large and the sunsets stunning. She is a Proverbs 31 ministries COMPEL Writers Training member and is involved in church ministries and music. Mary’s personal blog aims to encourage and inspire women and advocate for those with Down Syndrome, as their youngest child introduced them to this extraordinary new world. For more inspiration, check out Joy in the small things https://maryfolkerts.com/ or connect on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/maryfolkerts/
Beautiful poem, dear Mary. Yes to this: "And maybe the nearest thing we can learn and be witness to is the presence of Jesus, who holds us afloat in the pain."
ReplyDeleteHe sees the sparrow. He sees us. We're cherished. We're held.
Blessings.
Thank you Wendy! Yes we have to hold onto that!💞
DeleteThank you so much, Mary. This resonates with me deeply as someone who walked the way of grief after the death of my twin. I couldn't bear the pain and coped in unhealthy ways for years. I learned (by God's grace) that while it is okay to hate the pain, there are much healthier ways to deal with it, including confronting it (with Jesus at my side). Thank you also for the visual of the puddle as a metaphor for both our trials and the source of new growth. Blessings.
ReplyDeleteI’m sorry for your terrible grief Michelle! 💔 that is pain unthinkable. I don’t want to be trite about pain. I think we all experience different levels of pain and suffering and somehow God carries us through. I can’t imagine doing pain without him..
DeleteThe poem was such a wonderful intro to the rest of your piece!
ReplyDeleteI appreciate it Tracy! 😊
DeleteLove the poem and the post. Much to be learned in the ‘pain puddles.’ I too, loved the line cited by Wendy. I have a plaque which says ‘Sometimes God calms the storm, sometimes God lets the storm rage and calms his child.’ Almost every time I read it the words give me pause. Your post and poem are making me pause and ponder as well. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your words Sharon! Yes those are good words to think on!
DeleteDear Mary, in reading your message it is like I have entered a sacred space in time. Your poem holds my soul and lets me know I am not alone. When I worked as a chaplain, I sat with many people who were suffering. Now, a few years since I retired from a healthcare environment, I still sit with my residual pain as memories. Your post and heart are a balm to soothe my soul. Thank you and blessings to you and your family.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for your kind words Alan! We have never met but I feel we may be kindred souls!😀. I’m thankful these words could be a balm to you. Blessings to you!🌸
DeleteThank you! I find it very beautiful. But pain is pain and it hurts to let the pain be there. Thank you for sharing this topic. 🙏💔
ReplyDelete