What is this thing called SUFFERING?
Just a physical, mental, emotional sting?
Or a spiritual wait/weight that holds you in hell?
Perhaps a way to test if your will is well?
Why oh why does SUFFERING exist?
Like the black of space, a mysterious abyss.
And how come it has to be so hard?
A cross to bear that's way too large.
It feels sometimes like senseless sadness,
In a world so full of mindless madness.
It causes great pain and sorrow,
Yesterday, today, and, of course, tomorrow.
A loved one gone, a war goes on.
Or some other disastrous phenomenon.
Yes, SUFFERING is such a sadistic suck.
A lunatic that runs amuck.
I confess, I want nothing to do with it,
But a strange thing happens when I'm forced to go through with it.
Have you ever thought about this?
SUFFERING viewed with a surprising twist.
How do you make an indestructible sword?
What is it that allows the craftsman to forge?
Well, the steel is first put in unbearable heat,
Then with a hammer it repeatedly gets beat.
Over and over and over again,
To the point where it seems that there is no end.
Until one day the merciless trial stops,
And the metal is cooled when in the water it drops.
It’s changed into something it wasn’t before,
What emerges is a weapon that’s ready for war.
So perhaps SUFFERING is a tool, a call to action.
A way to get a desired reaction.
It knocked me down, so I could learn to get up,
It taught me to get going, when the going gets tough.
It ripped me apart, so I could keep it together.
It threw everything at me, so I could deal with whatever.
It struck me, it stoned me, and it spared not the rod,
It steered me toward the mercy of God.
It deepened my faith, made steadfast my hope,
I learned you could swing someplace else at the end of your rope.
The exclamation mark of SUFFERING's teaching is the 'I.N.G.'
I'm Not God
I Need God
I Now Go on
People connect more through their pain than their pleasure,
From going through hell, as opposed to relaxing in leisure.
I was blind, but now I see
That life is all about the we,
And learning how to simply be.
I thought SUFFERING was a burden but it could be a gift,
That weighs you down first, to then eventually uplift.
After all, don’t you enjoy the warmth of the sun,
So much more after a cold rain is done?
I don’t claim to know if this is SUFFERING’s real intention,
But it’s a thought worthwhile enough to mention.
In the end, I find myself muttering,
Thank you, to the experience of SUFFERING.