What if joy and pain were different shades of the same, beautiful color—not sworn foes growling and frothing from opposite corners?
What if they completed each other? What if they were in love?
I just read Life of the Beloved: Spiritual Living in a Secular World, by Henri J.M. Nouwen, and he got me thinking about joy and pain.
When you come in from the snow and run your hands under cold water, your hands, they bite and burn just the same way as when you plunge them into a scalding bath.
Hold that thought. Let’s focus on the darkness for a moment.
K-Pants spent the night at my sister Hillary’s a while back. Hill woke up to see him standing right next to her bed, staring at her. “I’m afraid of the darkness,” he said.
Tell me about it.
I haven’t had a diagnosis of depression. But…
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