Hurt is everywhere. And even though it is everywhere and even though, "almost everyone has a miscarriage at least once in their life." (I'm assuming this was directed toward women), I don't feel my pain is any less. I do not feel like that fact should or can lessen the hurt in my heart.
I find myself reading facebook statuses of hurting people and staring blankly at the screen, willing my heart to come up with the PERFECT words to ease the pain or worry of someone. I don't want to blend in with the 12 or so people saying, "I'm sorry for your loss." I want to be the person who comes up with the perfect words to ease the pain.
So sometimes I just don't write anything, because I know it can't help.
And sometimes I do because I know even those little things help for a fleeting second, because they know they are cared for and thought of.
In church today, our pastor shared something I've never thought of before:
Jesus became human, flesh, to carry out the penance for my sin. And because he was and is flesh, he knows pain. He knows what it feels like to loose someone close to them, to wonder where food will come from. He knows the feeling of loneliness and he knows the feeling of deep sorrow.
So in my sorrow, I can know that God hurts with me. He knows how it feels and he isn't doing it to punish me or teach me something. He loves me.