The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I think that Longfellow might have been living in the Pacific Northwest when he penned the verses above.

The forecast for this week has been rain, and the chance of rain from day to day, has been anywhere from 70-100%.

The morning awakenings, of lighter skies brightening my bedroom windows, last week, have been traded for the dark of early January mornings.

I do not like cold, and dark, and dreary. It is weather systems like this that can literally and figuratively put a dark cloud on my days.

Now there are times when I can appreciate, and even feel refreshed by such weather forecasts. In the middle of the summer, after weeks of hot sun, and no precipitation, awakening to the gentle rain of summer is a most joyful experience. Times like that, when there is good purpose in the rains, I can understand, I can appreciate their appearance.

This week, in the midst of the dark and dreary, I have had pain brought to my conscious thinking. Not my own pain (other than when I stubbed my toe on the corner of the wall, yesterday), but the pains that occur throughout life, like seasons of rain.

My daughter had me proof read a paper she had written on the purpose of pain.

“It is hard to evaluate why God allows anyone to suffer. I highly doubt that I can adequately scratch the surface of the complexity of this issue, but an attempt leads to the learning of others and myself. I believe God allows suffering to occur as an unfortunate byproduct of his gift of freewill. Without free will to choose our own path, we would never experience those moments in life of all-consuming bittersweet joy, the kind that bubbles up somewhere in the center of the continuum of delighted laughter and contented tears where you cannot help but suddenly surrender to the depth and magnitude of the mysteries of life and be present. You cannot rightly know one without the other – a world without pain and only metaphysical joy is mutually exclusive to people who are bound to perspective rooted in familiarity. God does not desire suffering for us, but in giving us choice he is also obligated to let us deal with the consequences.”

When I read the line “you cannot rightly know one without the other” I was reminded of thoughts I had last Sunday, as hubby was preaching, and said, “I do not pretend to understand God’s economy” (in reference to God sacrificing His own son, for the sinful nature of humanity.

It made me look at the gifts of people. Gifts that would never be used, never be needed, were it not for pain.

Without sickness, we would not need those who heal.

Without sorrow, we would not need those with compassion.

Without conflict, we would not need peacemakers.

In pain can be found people who attend to the need. They are, in effect, the reminders that “behind the clouds is the sun still shining.”

Read Full Post »