Finding the Blessing

Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
And this our life exempt from public haunt
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones and good in every thing.
--Shakespeare, As You Like It

I was talking with a friend who has just had cancer surgery. As a cancer survivor myself (surgery over 20 years ago), I know the scary place she is in right now. Before I had the surgery, I would not have been able to be the same kind of loving friend.

I remember thinking that before I was divorced, I probably did not listen well enough, or deeply enough to friends living through divorce.

And I know that before I lost my parents, I expected people to move through that grief much more rapidly.

Those wounds in my life - whether abuse as a child or hardships as an adult, have been and continue to be blessings in that they have sheared off layers of insulation between me and others in the world.

I don't say this to point at my incredibly flawed self as some sort of example of Lady Bountiful. I will miss a chance to care and to love as easily as the next person -- but I think it is important to find ways in which those things/events/sorrows in our lives are refining us in life's fire -- grinding us fine in life's crucible -- so that at least in some ways we do become better able to hear and be of help.

There have been a few areas of my life that have felt like they were burned to ashes - but if I look honestly enough I will find blessings in those ashes -- tongues in those trees -- sermons in those stones.

It may be that when my life's clock has run its course, that I will be most thankful for the wounds that, when healed, allowed me to better love.