Sorrows That the Eye Can't See

Who am I to judge another
when I walk imperfectly?
In the quiet heart is hidden
sorrow that the eye can't see.
Who am I to judge another? --
Lord, I would follow Thee.

There are lots of sorrows that the eye can't see-

Physical ailments like fibromyalgia and infertility.

Mental illnesses like depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, and schizophrenia.

Heartbreaks, like a miscarriage or childlessness, financial challenges, waiting without answers, watching a family member or loved one live with any of these things.

Everyone has their own unique bundle of sorrows that they keep private, that are too embarrassing or painful to even talk about.

I know what's in my pack.

There is gratitude, certainly- there have been a few sorrows that have been taken from me. Angers that have been replaced with understanding and peace. The freedom that comes with letting go and knowing its not my problem to solve or my burden to carry anymore. Frustration that has been replaced with recognition and acceptance.

But there's also a lot of hurt-

Divorce, and the struggles and hurts and heartbreak that come with divorce. Twice. The looks that come with judgment.. and knowing those judgments are flawed, and knowing there's nothing to be done because those minds are made up, even sharing your side of the story won't get compassion or understanding.

Infertility. I've known since I was 18 that pregnancy was something I would never experience. The experience of falling in love with that little someone I've just met but known for months, of seeing my sweetheart in my baby's face. Nope, not gonna happen for me. And seeing others live this- oh, it hurts!! I don't begrudge their experience, but sometimes it's almost more than I can bare.

Social ostracism. I wasn't one of the cool kids in high school. But I was lucky enough to still find a group of wonderful friends. Since high school, though.. *shrug. I don't know that I've found my place. I'm not someone's wife. I'm nobody's mother. I'm nobody's best friend (or at least it feels that way sometimes). I'm nobody's mentor or hero. I'm not the one anyone really rushes to sit next to in church. I'm nobody. Who will remember me?

Misunderstood. Some who think they know me... well frankly they don't. Some, I don't really care. But others, it hurts. Those who should know me better have chosen to not listen, not see, and therefore they don't know. And it's not just their lack of accurate knowledge that hurts.. but sometimes, the magnitude of the misperception is what hurts more. "You really think I'm like that??"

So what do I do with it all? *shrug. That's the million-dollar question.