p&b

As I sat down with my soy chai and power bar, I stared at the blank page in my journal and wondered what I'd write about. It had been such a long time since I had written anything of substance. My journal had been blasted recently with many ramblings and incomplete thoughts. But I wanted to write about something - something specific. As I sat there trying to consider what to write about, a conversation came to mind.

A few days ago, I was talking with a co-worker of mine. Oddly, we were talking about childbirth. The conversation started over an article I read online about kids in Milwaukee who "age out of the system" - kids who are wards of the state until they turn 18, and then are pretty much on their own. I was saddened to learn that nearly 150 kids age out of the system every year in Milwaukee. That means there are a least 150 kids who every year, turn 18 without knowing a home... Kids who's "parents" are paid by the state to look after them, and basically just keep them out of trouble. I was explaining to my co-worker how much I would love to reach out to those kids. For a long time, I've wanted to adopt - especially older kids... the kids who rarely get picked simply because of their age. Those are the kids I want.

However, this then launched us into a conversation about having kids of our own, and whether or not we wanted them. She informed me that she has no intentions of having children of her own. I asked her why... Sickness. Pain. Weight gain. Feeling undesirable. Fatigue. Stress. Not to mention the horrible pain that comes with the birthing process. She said she wanted NOTHING to do with it. I said to her, "But don't you think it'd be totally worth it once you have that child in your arms?" She disagreed... she said, "That's when the crying starts."

As this conversation came back to me, I knew what I wanted to write about - pain and beauty. I've had numerous thoughts on this idea, and that conversation only took it a step further. I am convinced more than ever that the two come hand in hand. With pain comes beauty, and to reach beauty, you must deal with pain. Granted, this is not true all the time, but it seems to be true a lot of the time. Here are some examples.

Childbirth, as I've already mentioned, is a very obvious one. But what about NOT so obvious things. Take a sunset for instance. A sunset is VERY beautiful, but it also provides warmth. Once the sun sets, while beautiful in the process, can create some bitter cold nights, which in turn has the ability to cause pain. Or how about letting go of a child. It's painful to let go, but it's beautiful to watch them gain their independence and go out on their own.

Being in a relationship is another good example - more specifically, marriage. I have a lot of married friends, and from what I hear, marriage is tough. It's full of lots of honesty too, which can often times bring pain. While the unity of one life with another is an absolutely beautiful thing, it takes a lot of work, and even a bit of pain to grow deeply together.

But what's really intersting is the thought that hit me today. I had a good friend ask a tough question of me: "Tory, when are you going to go back to church?" He didn't mean attend church, he meant "When are you going to be a fully committed member of a church community again?" It was a good question, but my first thought was "There's too much pain attached with the church." It was then that my "pain and beauty" musings slapped me across the face. Yes, church is filled with pain - as are a lot of things in life. But it is also filled with beauty... a beauty I'm not always able to see.

I started to think about why the two go hand in hand - why it is that often times beauty and pain come as a package deal. My immediate thought was, "It was because of the fall. We can't enjoy anything beautiful without having some pain to go with it." However, my thoughts soon shifted to another idea. We deserve pain. We chose to screw things up. We decided to sin. We chose pain. However, God chose to still provide us with beauty. Maybe it's his way of showing grace - you know, softening the blow. Instead of saying "You'll have to suffer to see beauty" maybe he's saying "Because you're suffering, here is some beauty."

I was definitely challenged by this idea with regards to the church. Will I ever be able to see the beauty through the pain? Will I ever be willing again to bear the pain in order to find the beauty? I seem so quick to accept the pain that comes with things like childbirth and realtionships. Why can't I seem to push past the pain when it comes to the church?

It'll be interesting to see how long these thoughts stick with me, and permiate my thought life. All I can hope and pray for is for God to show me the beauty amidst the pain.