To The Lord Who Hides in Pain,
I used to be afraid to visit you. I'd have rather stayed home, comfortable, in the place that's familiar. But then you invited me into pain. And I found you. You were right there.
I used to wonder why you hide yourself there. Then you taught me: Because, if I were to have to deal with pain on my own, I'd never make it. So, you went there, and you waited on me. You prepared the way for me. And you also prepared the way out. What a gift!
I no longer wonder why you hide in pain. Now, I am able to see it as a gift. There, in the pain of longsuffering, you give me the gift of endurance. There, in the pain of broken relationships, you give me the gift of healing. There, in the pain angst, you give me the gift of discernment.
I no longer wonder why there is pain in this world. I simply trust and know that, wherever there is pain, you are there. There, in the pain of being wrong, you give me the gift of an opportunity to mature. There, in the pain of having to change, you give me the gift of strength. There, in the pain of being alone, you give me the gift of your presence.
And there, in the midst of your call on my life, you ask me to give, to give the Spirit more to work with. And, so, I do. I give you the gift of myself, Lord. And if I have to enter into pain to give you more of me, I will. Mahalo, God, for hiding in pain so I don't have to go it alone.