Sorrow is selfish

Sorrow is very selfish. You get wrapped up in your own pain and loss that you forget that there are others who are also struggling. Maybe forget isn’t exactly the right word- because you KNOW that others are feeling the loss. But you wrap yourself in a blanket of pity, and just don’t want to acknowledge that anyone else is hurting besides you. It’s totally selfish. But it’s almost like there’s so much sorrow in your own heart, you’re afraid if you try to acknowledge everyone else’s, you’ll simply explode. So you don’t.

But I read Diana’s posts, and it’s almost like we’re missing two different people. I’ve never lost my best friend. Emily’s my sister, but she wasn’t my best friend. And I wasn’t hers. And that’s okay. I’ve often said that if Emily and I weren’t related, we’d probably never talk. Actually, we’d probably not even have liked each other! We were just so different. But because we were sisters, we made it work. But I read about her on facebook and see her in a way that I never saw her before. I see her through the eyes of her friends, and not through the eyes of a sister. I know hindsight is 20/20, but I missed out on a lot. Of course, if this situation was reversed, I think Emily would be seeing the same thing. But I think that’s just the nature of sisters.

I read the thought that my Aunt Pat sent me, and it’s like I could almost hear God whispering to me “Melissa, you aren’t the only one who misses her.”

So I’m starting to realize that this sorrow isn’t just mine and mine alone.
There’s a verse in Corinthians that I just love:
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.” 2 Corinthians 1: 3-5
God’s given me so much comfort in these last weeks- in a lot of different ways. But I’m falling down in the “comforting others” department. Sorrow is selfish… comfort is not.
We’re sorrowing for the loss of a daughter. A granddaughter. A sister. A friend. A girlfriend. A cousin. A niece. And even though the loss is different, it’s sorrow for the same person.

Our Emily.