This Thanksgiving season I am thankful for pain. Yes, pain.
Over the last few days I have begun to realize it is very easy to be thankful for the good things in our lives. For example, being thankful for my family, for my friends, for my house, and for food to eat. The obvious, the easy. So this thanksgiving, I encouraged myself to be original. In my search for originality, I stumbled upon a very convicting truth about thankfulness. It does not just include the happy things in life; it includes every aspect of our lives. Because, if each moment is a gift, that includes even the hard times.
Most of you probably know this already, but my mother died when I was seven years old. It was a sudden, painless death for her, but sometimes I think it was the opposite for the ones she left behind. Losing a mom as a child is something no one really understands unless they have been through it. It's something that affects your entire life because you always wonder what life would have been if they hadn't left you. It somehow can manage to be painful even when it isn't. As I grew older, I would hear my dad recount the story of my mother's death. Over and over again, I would hear it. And after almost every retelling, my dad would pick up his violin and play the old hymn, "It Is Well with My Soul."
I loved listening to it. Eventually, this song became the only tangible thing I could equate to the story of my mother's death. I am so thankful to my dad for his amazing strength throughout my life, despite the pain. He has taught me well that this song can represent God's sweet relief.
Less than a year after my mom's death, my dad was remarried. He married this beautiful, young lady named Nicole. And she's been the world's best mum ever since. Not only did I get a wonderful mum, but I also now have five more perfect siblings in addition to Jonan. Jonan, my best friend and confidant. Elim, the brilliant, goof-ball. Josiah, the sensitive, super-cool kid. Andrew, the quiet, creative genius. Moriah, the beautiful, sassy sweetheart. And now, Rose the loving, smiling pretty one. You know what? I am thankful for the pain, because God gave me them. And they are a sweet relief.
For many years, my family and I lived in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. It was home. Homes are hard to come by as I have learned from a lifetime of exchanging houses, pets, and cars for new locations and languages. We were supposed to stay there for as long as I could imagine, but that was not to be. When my brother, Elim, was diagnosed with autism, we were shipped back to the States faster than I knew possible. Mongolia was the first time I had happily laid down roots, and been ready to commit to a home. Having that cut off, hurt. I just wanted to belong somewhere. But now, I have the ability to look back and see how lucky I am that I was able to experience it for even a little while. Not only did I get to see the world, but I also got to meet so many wonderful people by coming back to the States. Even some friends for a lifetime. I am thankful for that pain, because God taught me that home is wherever you open your heart to someone. And that is a sweet relief.
Every stage of life has its ups and downs. The pain starts to surround you so thoroughly that you begin to think you're drowning. But it's like they always say: if it weren't for the darkness, we would never see the stars. Pain teaches us things that nothing else can. We know better what joy is because of pain. It brings such sweet relief.
Being in Jordan has brought its own round of pain. Homesickness and culture shock tried to paralyze me at the beginning. And, later on, the everyday inconveniences of men and taxis tried to send me packing. But here I am, a month from going home, and I am thankful. I am thankful for the pain I have been through, because it has made me that much stronger. It has made me realize how fortunate I am to have the opportunity to be here and to be studying. I am thankful that I am surrounded by amazing people - here, at home, and all over the world. So, thanks for the pain, Jordan. Because...
Even so, it is well with my soul.
Over the last few days I have begun to realize it is very easy to be thankful for the good things in our lives. For example, being thankful for my family, for my friends, for my house, and for food to eat. The obvious, the easy. So this thanksgiving, I encouraged myself to be original. In my search for originality, I stumbled upon a very convicting truth about thankfulness. It does not just include the happy things in life; it includes every aspect of our lives. Because, if each moment is a gift, that includes even the hard times.
Most of you probably know this already, but my mother died when I was seven years old. It was a sudden, painless death for her, but sometimes I think it was the opposite for the ones she left behind. Losing a mom as a child is something no one really understands unless they have been through it. It's something that affects your entire life because you always wonder what life would have been if they hadn't left you. It somehow can manage to be painful even when it isn't. As I grew older, I would hear my dad recount the story of my mother's death. Over and over again, I would hear it. And after almost every retelling, my dad would pick up his violin and play the old hymn, "It Is Well with My Soul."
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
I loved listening to it. Eventually, this song became the only tangible thing I could equate to the story of my mother's death. I am so thankful to my dad for his amazing strength throughout my life, despite the pain. He has taught me well that this song can represent God's sweet relief.
Less than a year after my mom's death, my dad was remarried. He married this beautiful, young lady named Nicole. And she's been the world's best mum ever since. Not only did I get a wonderful mum, but I also now have five more perfect siblings in addition to Jonan. Jonan, my best friend and confidant. Elim, the brilliant, goof-ball. Josiah, the sensitive, super-cool kid. Andrew, the quiet, creative genius. Moriah, the beautiful, sassy sweetheart. And now, Rose the loving, smiling pretty one. You know what? I am thankful for the pain, because God gave me them. And they are a sweet relief.
For many years, my family and I lived in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. It was home. Homes are hard to come by as I have learned from a lifetime of exchanging houses, pets, and cars for new locations and languages. We were supposed to stay there for as long as I could imagine, but that was not to be. When my brother, Elim, was diagnosed with autism, we were shipped back to the States faster than I knew possible. Mongolia was the first time I had happily laid down roots, and been ready to commit to a home. Having that cut off, hurt. I just wanted to belong somewhere. But now, I have the ability to look back and see how lucky I am that I was able to experience it for even a little while. Not only did I get to see the world, but I also got to meet so many wonderful people by coming back to the States. Even some friends for a lifetime. I am thankful for that pain, because God taught me that home is wherever you open your heart to someone. And that is a sweet relief.Every stage of life has its ups and downs. The pain starts to surround you so thoroughly that you begin to think you're drowning. But it's like they always say: if it weren't for the darkness, we would never see the stars. Pain teaches us things that nothing else can. We know better what joy is because of pain. It brings such sweet relief.
Being in Jordan has brought its own round of pain. Homesickness and culture shock tried to paralyze me at the beginning. And, later on, the everyday inconveniences of men and taxis tried to send me packing. But here I am, a month from going home, and I am thankful. I am thankful for the pain I have been through, because it has made me that much stronger. It has made me realize how fortunate I am to have the opportunity to be here and to be studying. I am thankful that I am surrounded by amazing people - here, at home, and all over the world. So, thanks for the pain, Jordan. Because...
Even so, it is well with my soul.
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