joy and sorrow

 Then a woman said, "Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow."       And he answered:       Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.       And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.       And how else can it be?       The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.       Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?       And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?      When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.       When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.       Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."       But I say unto you, they are inseparable.       Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.       Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.      Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.       When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall. ~Khalil Gibran, The Prophet

This is reflective of a conversation today. Joy and sorrow are so tightly intermingled, so woven together. Sometimes that idea is soothing, but other times painful, uncomfortable, or downright frightening. There is so much about the connection between joy and sorrow that has been on my mind most of my life, it seems. 

Yet the sorrow we talked about today isn't anything I can fathom. At one point, I said that I know what I would think, where I could have identified some of my pain, if it were me. But at the same time, we both knew, very well, that it wasn't. Harder still, though we both wanted to talk about it with each other, there was something very specific that got in the way -- in both directions. Oddly, ironically, what got in the way is the same thing that led me to the passage above: faith. More specifically, my faith. 

Hearing part of this passage this evening, I immediately thought of my friend. Of her pain, her sorrow, her sharing today. And I also thought of the immense joy that is a huge part of who she is as a woman, as a friend, as a sister. I learned so much from her today as we talked. I could relate to so much of what hurts, but not exactly, and that is okay. There are no platitudes that can help ease her suffering. I can't make any of it better, and we both know that. But I can continue to do what I've been doing for her: I can pray. Where she is afraid, I can pray. When she is angry, I can pray. In her sorrow and in her joy, I can offer prayer for her, because I know she can't right now. I know because she told me. I know because I've been there.

I firmly believe we are all here as people of faith to carry each other through from time to time. Praying and praising is sometimes easy, understandable and free. Other times, it feels pointless, useless, exhausting. When our self-sufficiency melts away into nothingness, and we feel empty inside, sometimes we can pray on our own.....but mostly, for me, the best thing I can find to be a blessing is the knowledge that someone else is doing my praying for me; bending God's ear on my behalf. He's always there, even when we can't feel His presence -- or when we don't really want to admit that we don't want to feel it. He's there. He asks for us, calls us, opens His arms to hold us. 

I wish the wishes could come true. That the facts, the time, the events could be changed or modified, improved. But that's my broken, confused, human self wanting what I think would be best. It will all be as it should be, but for now, we pray and embrace through the now.