Proverbs says...."Faithful are the wounds of a friend." As a parent, there were many times when pain was something I had to allow my children to feel, from taking them to the doctor for a "procedure" that I knew would cause temporary pain to make them well, to watching them learn things...the hard way.... because I knew it was the only real way they'd learn. They eventually grew up and realized the truth behind the pain; that I loved them. I was their mama.
To be a friend, though, that's a more precarious position from which to pass out gift wrapped pain. They tend not to send you a thank you note. They throw the present back at you and it cuts a gash in your heart. Not that you blame them. When you passed the pain present into their hands, you bled a little yourself.
I have a friend tonight who is mesmerized by a fire he cannot see. I called out a harsh warning and tried to drag him with me to run away to safety, and in the process, it gouged him and hurt him and he looked at the wound and mistook me for his enemy. And so I had to leave him behind, still standing in front of the fire. It feels like pain and smacks heavy on my face like a hard slap. I stand at a distance now, knowing that it looks like hate. And knowing nothing could be farther from the truth. We each stand in our own emergency rooms now, assessing our pain levels. He hurts for him. And as I look at my own wounds, I realize, I hurt for him too.
That is love.
