Rain poured and drummed numerous beats of a symphony around her. She sat there, hair falling down over her face. Wet. Cold. Heavy. She shivered in response. She brought her legs closer to her body, cuddling. She sat in the road, watching the heat rise up from the cooling rain. She wished her heart could do that. Numbly she touched her lips. They had to be blue. Her eyes were dark and sodden like the drowning dirt. The dirt trailed in strands down the road. Just like her tears over her cheeks and neck. Angel was crying mercy.
My heart cries out for that girl. Granted, she's fictional, but for all I know, there is a girl in the middle of this type of situation somewhere in the world. Right this minute. And it's raining in my heart for her.
There is a ridiculous amount of suffering in the world, suffering we don't need. Suffering that is killing us, if not the deprivation of food and nutrition.
And I want to be part of it.
Being part of suffering, for me, has the context of two things: Compassion and Love. What an odd ball mix. Suffering is their paradox, right?
Not exactly.
Here's my perspective: Suffering in compassion & love.
Google's definition of suffering is this:
1)Experience or be subjected to
2)Be affected by or subject to
Jesus' definition is this:
Surely he took up our pain
and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
stricken by him, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
Isaiah 53:4-5
That's a lot of hard core suffering he did for our sins. Jesus just didn't suffer because pain is painful. No, HIS REASON for suffering was more eternal and worthwhile. "For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in Him, should not perish but have everlasting life."
Jesus suffered in a positive way.
That's how I want to suffer.
When we are suffering together, we are probably doing it out of love. For example, there are thousands of martyrs every day who die for their faith. They suffer in love because of who they love and in return first loved them. They suffer in compassion because they understand the injustice done to others along side of them being persecuted for the same reasons. The fight is worth the suffering.
Suffering always has bad connotations. For all we know, the girl Angel was suffering in compassion and love. What if I finished the story...
Angel looked up. In the distance, she could see Jesus on the cross. Rugged and butchered. He didn't deserve it. She did. She had stolen that apple in the market. Her growling hunger seemed to override her guilt. It was the reason she could even feel shame. The rain pounded on her like that shame. She poked her toe. She couldn't even feel it. In her girlish way, she outstretched her wrinkled, small hands, lifting them high in the air. She winced. The guard at kicked her side when touching Jesus. Lifting her face to the heavens, she wailed, "I will suffer for love because you suffered for mine."
