Consolation has become a more beautifully meaning word to me these past few days. It means "being with the lonely one" (solus). It was when my finger was laid open with a saw, last Friday, once again, I experienced consolation as one of the most important ways to care. From the medical personnel down to family and friends, everyone, with grimmest looks, asked how they could help. I was alone in my pain, but everyone came along my side in physical or empathetic presence. You know, life is full of pain, sadness, and loneliness, as well. I know that I'm no different than most in wondering what I can do to alleviate the immense suffering going on.
These past few days, I have been reminded that to console does not mean to take away the pain but rather "be there and say: 'You are not alone; I am with you. Together, with God's help we can carry this burden. Don't be afraid, God Almighty and I am here.'" That is consolation. I need to give more of it as well as to receive it.
Sharing the the most recent pondering of a "coloring outside the lines," 75 year old, professing Christian, husband, father, grandfather, and friend.
