Thursday, December 8, 2011

being blessed in the midst of sorrow

I am sitting on my big brown sofa with a fire going. I'm also wrapped so tightly in a big fleece blanket that the only thing I can move are my wrists to type on this computer. My man is out having "boy's night" with some good, solid men. My dog is sitting on the floor happily gnawing away at a bone and rolling around on my winter coat because he likes how it smells.

What I'm trying to say is that I'm blessed. Blessed with a home and a job and warmth and food and a healthy, loving family who are all alive.

What I'm also trying to say is that there are people whom I love all around me who aren't sitting in their homes. Or they aren't getting up for their jobs tomorrow. Or their dogs passed away and aren't snuggling at their feet anymore. And some people I love don't have healthy grandparents that they can call at any time of the day.

What I'm also also trying to say is that I sometimes don't know how to rejoice in being blessed when I feel pain and guilt because people I love can't say that they've necessarily had the most blessed of seasons.

This post is more of a long drawn out question than a post:

How are we to BE or FEEL or ACT when we're profoundly blessed and surrounded by pain?

My only guess says to be grateful and gracious--
not to complain when my house is dirty or when my job is stressful or my dog is sick.

I'm certainly not saying that my life is perfect, either. There have been time when I haven't felt so blessed or when I lost loved ones or relationships or jobs or pets. And I think I always appreciated when the people around me who had what I didn't were genuine and thankful.

I'm sorry if I'm rambling, you all. I'm--as usual--word vomiting on this e-journal of mine.

I love that you all read this thing. It's so spastic, I know. And I love y'all.




  1. Brett, as always, thank you for sharing your heart! This is something that has surfaced frequently for me, whether on the receiving end or witnessing end of the pain. And a verse that used to confuse me comes to mind. "Jesus wept." why? He knew He would raise Lazarus from the dead and fix the source of pain better than we ever could. Yet he wept. He showed his compassion for the sisters and walked with them through their pain. In this world of quick answers, I think it's so easy to try to "fix" the problem, giving churchy answers that many times feel empty. Or ignore it and back away in uncertainty. But sometimes it's ok not to have the answer and just share in each other's pain. Thanks for writing Brett! Definitely a tough topic!
    Sarah G.

  2. This is such a sweet and honest post. I know I am very blessed, but sometimes I have a hard time of rejoicing even in the midst of those blessings.

    Thanks for the simple reminder! :)

    Just found your blog on the BlogHer list. So glad I did too!!