Hurting Hearts

I awoke early this morning while it was still dark—my favorite time to start the day. For the last few months my sleep schedule has been off, which has led to lingering in bed longer than I like. But, this morning, even though I had only slept about five hours, I was ready to get up, make coffee, feed the cat, light candles, and spend some time praying and pondering over the thoughts that came to me even before I opened my eyes.

My first thoughts were of hurting hearts. I can think of several people in my circle who are suffering (outwardly or inwardly) with loss, disappointment, rejection, relationship conflicts,

family issues, sickness, fear for the future…there are so many things that can cause heartache, and it seems to me that a hurting heart can be one of the most difficult and painful consequences of this world of tribulation. My heart breaks for hurting hearts.

What is the root cause of a hurting heart? In one way or another, could it be Love? Love causes pain because we care, because we feel. My heart breaks because I love all these who are hurting and I feel quite helpless to do anything about it. It’s not in my power, and it’s not in their power either. What a bleak conundrum. Yes, sometimes there are steps one can take, choices one can make, that might make a difference. But often, there isn’t. And the pain of waiting for an answer, or for something to change, or to adjust to a new reality can twist and turn a heart inside out.

Thinking back to some of my personal heartaches stirs a deep compassion because I know how it feels: the despair, lack of motivation, the fear of the unknown, regret, at times self-doubt and even physical discomfort. Sometimes the hurt is deep inside, causing anger, a bad attitude, or a constant dissatisfaction with life. Reaching far back in my memories, I can distinguish two distinct types of experiences: one before I knew the love of God in Christ, and one after; but I can’t say there was a clear line I crossed over. It was a more gradual change; one I can see in retrospect.

Heartaches in both worlds, with God and without God, have been equally painful, equally difficult. Suffering is never easy. Without God, I just wanted it to end. I wanted circumstances or people to change so the hurt would go away. But once I embraced the grace and truth of Jesus (Emmanuel, which means God Is With Us), my perspective began to change. An element of hope began to grow; a belief in God’s goodness and love—a lifeboat in a dark stormy sea—was planted in my heart, right next to the pain. Sometimes tenuous, sometimes disappearing from sight, but constantly there for me to grasp once again.

My heart breaks for hurting hearts, especially those without a lifeboat. They must tread the stormy sea on their own, and some are quite determined and strong, but hurting none the less. Even those who have access to a lifeboat sometimes forget it’s there. That can be me, as well, if I lose focus or let the wrong thoughts dominate. Don’t get me wrong. A lifeboat doesn’t keep you from getting wet, cold, and hungry. But it has kept me from drowning.

Sometimes it’s good to wrestle with the hurt, to examine the Why, because it could be my desire to control, a misplaced priority, or a childhood wound not dealt with. We humans are complicated creatures. If it’s loss of a loved one…I can’t even touch that. Only God can.

It’s not for me to judge someone else’s pain. Each of us has a different experience and capacity for it, and what might seem small to someone is huge to someone else. All I know is that my heart breaks for hurting hearts and God calls me to weep with those who weep, mourn with those who mourn, and share in the suffering of others, as Christ shares in my own suffering, and the suffering of the world.

I’m looking for a positive ending here, but I’m afraid anything will sound trite after sharing these very serious thoughts. I look out my window and see a bleak winter garden. I look at the current state of the world and see a bleak future. These things don’t pain me with the same intensity as personal issues or the hurting hearts around me, although I care about them. At this moment, for me, they’re a metaphor, even a visual reminder, of a broken world full of broken people. I do believe in a future hope where every tear will be wiped away; but it’s often a long, narrow, and rocky road getting there.

“In this world you will have tribulation, but take heart; I have overcome the world.”

Jesus, our Lifeboat