Lent

I have had a front row seat to suffering lately.
I know that everything happens for a reason, and I am learning, and growing, and developing virtues that I might not have otherwise developed, but it has been HARD. I am a conflict avoider. A first class peace-maker, cleaner-upper, and soother of ruffled feathers. I like to be part of the solution, not the one there for the getting through the problem part. All those apostles who WERE NOT at the foot of the cross? Yeah, unfortunately, that would have been my crowd. Oh, I love Jesus, but I don't want to be there for THAT.

As Christians, we believe that suffering has value.

Christ's suffering quite literally "paid for" our sins.  During Lent, we are especially called on to reflect on His suffering and offer up our own little "sufferings" in order to  unite ourselves more intimately with Him. I have often struggled with this concept.  I mean, who would choose to suffer? It is in or very nature to avoid suffering!

Well, suffering has presented itself to me as a the theme of this year's Lent in our home. Here we are, half of the way through Lent, and the suffering of loved ones is teaching me the value of suffering in a way I had never known before. My Mom was diagnosed with colon cancer, had surgery, and is now facing six months of intense chemo. My mother-in-law, has been diagnosed with dementia, along with her debilitating Parkinson's and has declined both mentally and physically. Our entire family, one by one, has come down with a nasty bug, and, in the midst of all this, we lost our beloved dog of eleven years.

Watching someone you love suffer, is a tangible thing. Whether it is physical, emotional, or even spiritual suffering, if you love that person, you want desperately to help relieve it.

Suffering, especially when weathered by someone who suffers well, and by that I mean suffers with it's value in mind, has the ability to draw you in. You want to help. You want to offer companionship, relief, whatever it is that you CAN do, you WANT to do. What is the first question we ask when a person reveals that they have an illness, an injury, a crisis? We ask, "What can I do to help?"

A person suffering offers us an opportunity. An opportunity to share in the redemptive gift of the cross. Do we even realize it at the time? Typically not. When I hear my child cry out in pain, the fact that I am sharing in Christ's redemptive power is not in the forefront of my mind, but relieving their suffering is! No matter what I am doing at the time, suddenly, the relief of someone else's suffering takes precedence.

This is what love looks like.

Love is sacrifice.

Saint Theresa of Calcutta is quoted as saying, "If there is no sacrifice, there is no love."

I can't imagine the agony our Blessed Mother went through as she watched her son on the cross. Her suffering draws us in and makes us ponder - what kind of love allows you to go through this kind of pain? The Latin word compati means "to suffer with." It is the root for compassion. Compassion is suffering with someone. The Latin word misericordia, literally means miserable heart, and is where the word mercy was born. When we suffer with someone, when our heart is so miserable that we must reach out to them, this is what love looks like. The example of Our Lady is a perfect one, and a simple one. She let God work through her, made herself completely available, no matter what suffering was involved.

So all this suffering that I have been privileged to witness, privileged to be a part of, has made me realize something.

Just being there, is sometimes the best thing you can do for someone who is suffering.

 I am one of those people who sometimes struggle to find the value in just "being there." I like action. Measurable action. Making a meal, bringing flowers, providing financial assistance; all things I LOVE to do.  I don't want to sit and hold someone's hand while they are in pain. I don't want to watch over someone while they sleep and pray for them. I want to do something that will relieve their suffering!

Through this first half of Lent,  I have come to see the value in simply being there. The people who have been the most impactful in my own life? The people who were simply there when I was suffering.  The ones who made themselves available. The depth of our suffering is equal to the depth of our joy. Allowing ourselves to suffer with someone, is to allow ourselves to be open to God's powerful impact on our hearts and in our lives. To allow someone's needs to come before your own. This is what Jesus did for us on the cross.

This is what love looks like.