SINCE I began this website, I have received a number of eloquent, personal notes from readers. These moving letters described serious personal suffering. A middle-aged woman wrote of her marriage, one hellish experience after another, and her decision to avoid divorce. A man told me of a woman who had cruelly slighted him and belittled his expression of affection after their romance had ended. Fifty years old and divorced, expecting to live alone and never have another romance for the rest of his life, he was not bitter, just exhausted. A female reader wrote about her lifelong depression and poverty. She had begun to go to church by herself at the age of 10 because her parents were non-believers. A man wrote of serious illness.
I did not post any of these notes, even when readers gave me permission to, because they were too poignant and intimate. The best I could do was privately express consolation. Modern life is crushingly impersonal. Professionals will listen to you for a fee and provide a diagnosis. But there is often nowhere to rest your head. There is no place to cry for a few minutes.
I am praying for you this Christmas Eve. I have not forgotten your notes. Suffering is never wasted if we listen to what it has to say.
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