The Resident Suffering

We commonly recoil at extreme physical forms of suffering -sharp shards of glass scraped on the skin shredding it like raw meat in a meticulous butcher’s hands or poker hot cigar stubs pressing against one’s cheek all bring shrills to our spines and a very real sense of horror to our minds. Even chronic back ailments or well-placed paper cuts find our toes curling and the hair rising up like newly erected phone pole lines on the backs of our necks.

But today I was thinking about a more prevalent suffering, one that is more hidden in form and residence. Our trails are laden with lateral hazards, snares and traps and ditches and silent coves, good for hiding out or resting just before the bitter heat and utter coldness tests our hearts as we put our packs back on and set afoot yet again.

It’s much harder to judge the intensity of these sufferings because each one is tailored in the heart and no two contexts reveal the same reaction. Corrupted nature meets insufficient nurture causing Samsonite to produce more luggage and few carts.

Each of us has his own evaluation and internal exam filtering his input and interactions and sending in custom reports of the day’s travels. Bearing our own burdens is enough to crush the strongest backs and yet we are called to carry other’s burdens as well.

Unshared thoughts and procrastinated promises that call in sick regularly.
Affection vacuums that clean out a longing heart.
Continual shredding.
Intense loneliness amidst a crowded home.
Little boy blue robbed of his cat and cradle.
Thoughtless greetings.

Some sufferings are steady and slow in their erosion. May God help us endure the weathering hike.