Glue for the Heartstrings

Pain is often divisive. In our culture, it commonly breeds discord, resentment, and at times, even hatred and violence. Our worldly existence is indeed a sobering reality.

But take heart, my friend. It’s time to tell a new story.

Because pain was never meant to divide us. In fact, it’s the greatest unifying force on earth. Don’t believe me? Let me show you:

A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of attending the funeral of a close friend’s father. Privilege may seem an odd word choice considering the circumstance, but I would argue that pain is rarely an imposition. Though loss is never desirable, the grief it generates is powerful, tangible evidence of love, and love is always a privilege.

As I walked into the funeral home, I was directed to the back of the visitation line, which coiled down the full-length of the hallway and unfurled into an adjacent room. I waited well over an hour – a poignant testament to the life of impact this man lived.

After snaking glacially back up the hallway, I shook hands with one of the family members. I said the only thing I knew to say (what I believe is the best and only thing to say in the wake of great loss – remember, when talking with the brokenhearted, less is always more): “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

He immediately shook his head and smiled. “We appreciate that, and we’ll sure miss him. But we’re not sorry! We’re rejoicing for him. He’s home.”

I progressed on through the line, and as I neared the casket, I experienced a moment of transcendence. When I came to the wife of the deceased, I reached out my hand.

Then, suddenly, the world stood still.

She paused. I paused. And for the briefest of moments, we became the solitary fulcrum upon which everything else rotated. All of creation seemed to collapse into a singularity.

Slowly, she took my hand. And as she did, I watched her eyes. They were distant for a moment, gray and far-away, then, without a blink, strikingly close. They saw into the depths of me, searched and understood me in a way I’m seldom understood.

She was “recognizing” me, but not in the typical way you recognize someone. She knows me quite well; it wasn’t a matter of recognizing me as a person, or as a friend.

No, I was the same person she’d known for years. But something had changed, something big: Because when she looked at me that night in the funeral home, she saw something she had never seen before – she saw part of herself.

When she looked into my eyes, she saw familiar tears, almost too familiar. When she saw the lines on my face, the furrow in my brow, the disquiet in my countenance, they were like fragments of glass, sharp little reflections staring back at her.

In that moment of transcendent singularity, she and I saw one another as equals – broken things in a broken world, UNITED BY OUR PAIN.

You see, pain is not inherently divisive. It is the single most powerful unifying force in existence, far surpassing joy, friendship, and even the bonds of family. When you see someone who hurts the way you do, who silently understands the yet-unexplored depths of your secret agony, an unbreakable connection is formed.

The inquisitive mind may be asking, “But what about love? Isn’t it the greatest source of unity God ever created?”

The answer, of course, is yes.

Which is why my favorite definition of love is simply this, “We hurt the same way.”

This Christmas, strive to “recognize” those around you. Let your pain produce unity, and in unity, love, and in love, we shall bring true joy to the world. For joy, love, and pain are all cosmic mysteries, but they are the glue that binds our heartstrings together.

From the bottom of my heart, Merry Christmas!