Occupational Therapy

Where is your great sadness?

It was a question indirectly asked by author Paul Young in The Shack. For some, it is lying beside the grave of a loved one. For others, it is found in the shards of a shattered marriage. Still others, find it when recalling a lost job, estranged relationship, or maybe lost physical health. Such sadness penetrates so deeply that we find it hard to breath.  No wonder the majority of us wander everywhere but near such sadness. We can’t get away with denying it, but we spend a lifetime walking the long way around it.

For me, it is found in a beautiful chapel built ten years ago. No matter how hard I try to distract myself by looking at the vibrant stained glass windows, lush woodwork, or shiny slate floor, that sadness won’t leave me alone. The fact that everywhere I look there are pieces of me, only makes it easier for the sadness to have it's way.

I have given up the childish dream of rewriting the past and am determined to make peace with the sadness. With lips quivering as I try to sing, I fight to get air inside. I remember my dear friend Holly, an occupational therapist at a local hospital who works with patients to help them heal. She not only redresses bandages and moves wounded limbs in every direction, but sometimes opens wounds to clean them out so they will heal and not become infected.

That’s what I did today. I opened the wound so it can heal, so I can heal . . . one day. On the altar beside me, I placed my great sadness. I did so with only a gasp of a prayer: “God, please . . .”  

If I can do it, so can you.