Suffering and Comfort

Right now, the women's group that I meet with on Sunday nights are going over the Eight Beatitudes of Jesus. (Matthew 5:3-10) and this week's was:

Blessed are they who mourn,
for they shall be comforted.

This might get hard for me to word the way I want. On the surface, this appears pretty simple. If you cry, you'll be comforted. Ta da! But, as always, these ladies are able to dig deep. What, exactly, does mourning even mean to us? Is it just when someone dies? Or when you loose something? I don't think so. I equate it to suffering. And to say you're blessed when you suffer seems almost backwards.

But I believe suffering to be a blessing, just not usually while it's happening. I can't remember off the top of my head what verse it is that says that suffering produces character. This is true. If someone has the right attitude, suffering can become a learning experience. Or that the suffering happened to prevent something worse from happening, or to make something better. There are a lot of good things that come from suffering, it's just in how you see it. And knowing that I can grow from the experience is my own comfort.

A lot of people I know think of the person they used to be, and I can see how sad they are that they were ever like that. Regret. This I would consider a good thing also, as long as you can forgive yourself at some point.

Which leads me into the "For they will be comforted" portion. How will they be comforted? What do you think of when you think of comfort? Comfort with community tends to come in the form of kindness. Hugs, making someone dinner, a place to rest your head, helping to take their mind off of the current situation, music. That is what God often sends as comfort. Each other. But I think Christians can experience a different kind of comfort.

The reason this sounds like a cliche is because it kind of is. But there's truth in cliches, right? We can be comforted differently because we know that this unmeasurable and loving father/mother is hanging out there, in control of what's going on. Like you felt comfortable with your parents, because they knew what to do. (Of course, there are exceptions to that, but you get what I mean.) And while you didn't always understand WHY your parents did what they did, you can look back in roughly 20 years and appreciate their work, or maybe you understand something that you didn't before. I understand far more about the things that my parents did now that I may have in my angst y teen years.

One of my friends expressed that they didn't feel like they had enough faith when they DIDN'T feel comforted by God in their situation. I could see her wrestling with herself. I want you to know that there's nothing wrong with you. If you feel 100% ok with everything that's happening, there's probably something wrong with you. My pastor had us pray, silently, to ourselves once to have God's will be done. That was it. The whole prayer. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. And I consider myself to be someone of pretty strong faith. But letting go of my own control and giving that up was nearly xanax worthy. I think my heart is in my stomach just thinking it now.

The second cliche-esque part of this is the part where I say that God forgives the worst things we have done. When I grasped that for the first time, I freaked out. I'm talking about full on, hands over the face, on my knees crying until I thought I'd puke. I'm no peach most of the time, not quite a devil but definitely not an angel.

I mean, this is the creator of the world, the painter of the sunset, maker of mountains. How can anyone be so forgiving of the things I've done? I never could be. How can someone love me enough to die for me, to forgive me, to craft me, to welcome me into Heaven someday? The comfort came later with the same sentiments. The creator of the world, the painter of the sunset, and the maker of the mountains loves me enough to die for me, forgives me, crafted me, welcomes me. What better comfort can I get?

Through my personal struggles, the internal wrestling, the dumb things I've done, I would say I've spent my fair time regretting and mourning. But through God's forgiveness and perspective, I would also say I'm pretty comforted about the way I've turned out so far. And I trust him like a parent should be trusted.

Blessings!

Lacie