Friday, June 3, 2011
pen that writes the songs.
No one asks for pain. It's part of life that we accept, being human. And although we take for granted that we'll not escape the number, we are usually taken by surprise when we, like the rest of mankind that's ever breathed, feel that knife in our side. It's that momentary shock, then blood, then healing. But if pain is a part of life, scars are too. They remind us of our mistakes, our victories, our mortality. Like fire, pain has the ability to cripple or turn into gold. The question is, when the knife is in and you're left standing in your own blood, and the wound keeps you from sleeping or eating or feeling anything outside of it - will the pain be your weapon or tool? Will you cut down, hurt others because of it, will you let it bind you? or will you use it and let it make you stronger, better, more able and wise than it found you? Use it. And for every time it hurts, let it remind you to be more of a servant, to be more thoughtful of others and more aware that every person you meet has pain of their own. People have died by fire. But they've also lived because of it. Sometimes God asks us to walk through it, but He does so knowing we'll be more like Him, more in love with Him, more willing to trust Him. Somehow He makes our pain beautiful in His time. Makes us know Him better. and if that is not the ultimate goal in living, what is?
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perfect.
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