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I dropped my phone on the floor and let the pain assail me. I'd given my heart away to someone who didn't want it. Even knowing that, I didn't regret it. I just wanted him to want me. I just wanted him to love me too.
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Identifying pain in others was easy for me. I was drawn to it in some strange perverse way.
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To multitudes of sufferers on beds of pain and languishing, Jesus has been the great physician to-day; in many a weeping circle around precious dust, He has been the Divine comforter, and the tears have almost ceased to flow as this Jesus has touched the bier. Dying lips have whispered His name, and the valley of the shadow has been illumined as with the glory from the celestial shores.
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Love is what enables us to bridge the gap of disappointment when others don't live up to the expectations we have of them.
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A world of confusion and disappointment results from trying to believe without obeying.
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Each sporadic burst of work, each minor success and disappointment, each moment of calm and relaxation, seemed merely a temporary halt on my steady descent through layer after layer of depression, like an elevator stopping for a moment on the way down to the basement.
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I went whenever I could, and always my eyes lifted to the hills. I was to find a spiritual and physical satisfaction in climbing mountains and a tranquil mind upon reaching their summits, as though I had escaped from the disappointments and unkindness of life and emerged above them into a new world, a better world.
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Grief does not expire like a candle or the beacon on a lighthouse. It simply changes temperature. It becomes a kind of personal weather system. Snow settles in the liver. The bowels grow thick with humidity. Ice congeals in the stomach. Frost spiderwebs in the lungs. The heart fills with warm rain that turns to mist and evaporates through a colder artery.
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Chorus: Zeus, who guided men to think who laid it down that wisdom comes alone through suffering. Still there drips in sleep against the heart grief of memory; against our pleasure we are temperate.
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Against eternal injustice, man must assert justice, and to protest against the universe of grief, he must create happiness.
