Beautiful Suffering

She ran to me with tears in her eyes. Her sobs were so loud I thought my eardrum would rapture. I tried calming her down as I robbed her shoulder and helped use words instead of tears to explain what was wrong with her.
“I – I – I pricked my little finger”, she wailed.
My mind sent me to those times when I was a little girl like her. The needle pricked me too, too many times! And I would wail too, then the big girls would calm me down. Little by little, I mastered my pain, till I could no longer feel it, and just after I was another task. Gradually, the pain became sweet, I could literally stab myself with a dagger- the dagger of the Word so I’d die to self to live yet another day.
Now my task is mastering the sword, it cut me cut sometimes, it stabs me sometimes, but I don’t cry anymore because the less I focus on the focus the pain, the better I do the assignment I’ve been given.
Throughout all my assignments, I’ve suffered the prick of a needle, the cut of a knife, the stab of the dagger and I have experienced the slay of the sword. I suffer daily under my heavy rugged cross, and even for break time, my refreshing drink is a cup of bitterness.
Considering the eternal glory, all these are just beautiful.
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