V
Veritatis_Splendor
Guest
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I am the most miserable person in the world. I have all the basic necessities in life. I am relatively in good health. There are a lot of things to be thankful for.
But I can no longer count the tears I have shed.
Not to go into details, but I’ve had a cross that had worn me down all my life. There’s still a huge part of my life that remains broken. It is about lacking a blessing that may be common for many and often taken for granted, and yet seems like a great, distant, unfulfilled dream for me. And it has caused me a lot of pain and tears. And along with that, great disappointments and unrealized plans.
Tonight, I cried a lot again.
This is just me babbling, repeating in different words the same age old question: why is there suffering in the world? And it tempts me to lose trust in God. To question his love for me.
I think I already came across all the answers. To name a few: that God allows evil only to draw a greater good out of it. That it is a chance for us to learn compassion. That it allows us to share in the suffering of Christ. To touch his wounds. To momentarily take his place on the Cross where he bleeds and writhes the pain. Then maybe we’ll learn the mystery of his Love. (It is a beautiful image. Thinking about it already consoles me.)
But it still baffles me. Why is this tremendous lover, in all his omnipotence, able to contain himself seeing his beloved children suffer? Why does he allow it? If I love someone, I would do all in my power to save that person from his/her pain. But why is the All-Powerful God holding back? The answers above may satisfy the mind, but sometimes, a heart in pain may find them hard to understand.
This is the same God who wept for Lazarus and called him forth out of the tomb. The same God who, without anyone asking him to, stopped a funeral procession just like that and brought a widow’s son to life. Alas, he is also the same God who just gazed at the tears of his own Mother as he hung from the Cross.
Ah, such is the mystery of God.
But I can no longer count the tears I have shed.
Not to go into details, but I’ve had a cross that had worn me down all my life. There’s still a huge part of my life that remains broken. It is about lacking a blessing that may be common for many and often taken for granted, and yet seems like a great, distant, unfulfilled dream for me. And it has caused me a lot of pain and tears. And along with that, great disappointments and unrealized plans.
Tonight, I cried a lot again.
This is just me babbling, repeating in different words the same age old question: why is there suffering in the world? And it tempts me to lose trust in God. To question his love for me.
I think I already came across all the answers. To name a few: that God allows evil only to draw a greater good out of it. That it is a chance for us to learn compassion. That it allows us to share in the suffering of Christ. To touch his wounds. To momentarily take his place on the Cross where he bleeds and writhes the pain. Then maybe we’ll learn the mystery of his Love. (It is a beautiful image. Thinking about it already consoles me.)
But it still baffles me. Why is this tremendous lover, in all his omnipotence, able to contain himself seeing his beloved children suffer? Why does he allow it? If I love someone, I would do all in my power to save that person from his/her pain. But why is the All-Powerful God holding back? The answers above may satisfy the mind, but sometimes, a heart in pain may find them hard to understand.
This is the same God who wept for Lazarus and called him forth out of the tomb. The same God who, without anyone asking him to, stopped a funeral procession just like that and brought a widow’s son to life. Alas, he is also the same God who just gazed at the tears of his own Mother as he hung from the Cross.
Ah, such is the mystery of God.