I am a thinker and an externalizer. I am compelled to speak my mind and my heart's mind. I feel my emotions strongly and therefore they are ornamental on my demeanor, my sleeves and on my face. Yet, upon knowing this about myself, I feel the pull of hesitancy about being frank about what I really think or how I really feel.  There are many factors that contribute to this: fear of judgment-- what would that really mean about the state of who Linell is; fear of who may actually stumble upon this very public website--I do want to protect people, even if I feel like kicking them...in places that hurt.

Anyway.

I say all of those things because I was thinking about the nature of pain.  Pain is probably the realest reminder that we have about how small and human we truly are. At least, that's what pain is for me.  Pain is such an abstract ideal, yet it pierces deeply. Maybe that's why we either idolize it to the point of being victimized by our vices, or we pretend like it doesn't really exist, that our nerves are enforced with steel.

Pain.  We refuse to talk about it, we rationalize it, we ignore it, we engage it and grab it by the horns, we surrender to it, we hate it, we learn from it, we don't learn from it, we grow or we grow bitter about life and our circumstances because of it.  It's the drive the pushes us to express ourselves. Musicians, artists and poets create from the pain of longing, or want, or confusion. Pain can be good and is often the basis of our inspiration-it's a unique consequence for living life, even more so for those who seek to live life abundantly.

I examine my pain--the sharp and the dull aches,  and the heart-wrenching, the feeling like I just got the wind knocked out of me every time I remember kind of pain.  I hate it. I hate hurting. I feel the nagging poking and prodding in the pit of my stomach that sometimes makes me want to hurl very heavy and fragile things out of my bedroom window.  In moments of emotional and physical exhaustion it can often feel like despair and though hope is as near as a whispered prayer, it can also feel so far away. 

And as much as I hate hurting, I also know that it is what keeps my hope and my faith alive. Though I hate talking about my pain, I can't help it.  I know that often times the best way to move on and move forward is to bleed it out until it can no longer bleed.  I know that the hurt is what throws me into the arms of God and into the love of people.  Pain pushes me to seek healing, pushes me to grow. I have found that pain in my life have been the markers of transition from one season to the next. Ergo, pain is a beautiful thing.

Still, it's not easy to acknowledge the hurts.  It's so difficult to accept and embrace the pain. Sometimes accepting the pain might mean there is something about myself--a harsh reality or truth, or lie that I need to face.  I find that acceptance is difficult to embrace when something might make it seem like I am not good enough or worthy enough of being loved for who I am.  It's hard to accept that someone can walk away from me, after giving so much of myself to them because a part of me believed that it could've been a lifelong investment.  But such is life--relationships come and go and we can't marry everyone that we date.  It takes courage and a degree of maturity to grow deeper into relationships--and we are all at different stages.   Sometimes it takes two people simply being on the same page.

But feelings are feelings and they suck.  And break-ups are a bitch, or something more ornery than one. 

I hate my pain, but I also am working towards accepting it. I find that writing about it helps. I find that letting people know that I am hurting helps because inevitably I know that I am ok and that I will get better. And they affirm that for me, too.  I also know that pain is a major constant in life and I don't want to be paralyzed by it.  I want to be able to thrive amidst the hurting, while giving myself space to break down or let things crumble once in awhile.  God promises to rebuild the things that He has broken and I hold that promise close to my heart.  It's the best salve for my pain, for anyone's pain.