Sorrow

By: Jake Callahan

Sorrow is such an emotive word. It’s one of those words that carries so much emotional weight that I sometimes allow the initial reaction it draws from thinking about what it actually means. What is sorrow?

I have lived a relatively charmed life, but recently I’ve been participating in activities to which the kids are now referring to as “growing up” and “learning how the world works.” I’ve been on the front row as I’ve watched some of my closest friends and family members endure trials that would be far too much for me to bear—sickness, financial difficulty, heartbreak—things that I’m sure for many of us are far too familiar. I’ve recently been thinking about this as I’ve watched loved ones experience those feelings of helplessness and despair that accompany such extreme tests of life.

What is the purpose of trials? It’s a word we throw around a lot. “Trials help us grow,” we offer to loved ones when they bring to us burdens under which their backs are buckling. “The refiner’s fire is what creates gold,” we all too casually mention when examining our friends’ heavy crosses. Sometimes it’s all we feel we can do, having no knowledge or experience such as to enable us to feel a real sense of empathy. But what is it about these trials that helps us to grow? What about the fire burns out impurity? I believe that at least one aspect is the sorrow that we feel.

I don’t believe heaven to be a place without sadness. In the book of Moses, chapter 8, we read the story of Enoch who converses with God. God shows Enoch the whole of creation. In essence it’s a vision designed to teach Enoch about God’s true nature and about His relationship with His children.  In the pivotal moment of the scene, God, while showing Enoch Satan’s power over the men and women of the earth, begins to weep. Naturally, Enoch incredulously asks the omniscient, omnipotent God how He, of all beings, can weep. God’s tender response is, in my opinion, one of the most important pieces of scripture that we have today. He says, “Behold these thy brethren, they are the workmanship of mine own hands...I have given them commandment that they should love one another, and that they should choose me, their Father; but behold, they are without affection, and they hate their own blood.” Here we have a father, who loves his children beyond comprehension, watching as His own family tears itself apart. This all-powerful Creator is forced to stand by and do nothing while His children turn on each other and turn on Him. “Enoch,” He says, “My children hate each other, and they hate me, and that is why I weep.” I cannot imagine His sorrow. It is unfathomable to me.

I believe that sorrow will be an important aspect of our lives in heaven. I don’t think it will go away. If God the Eternal Father has been weeping for millennia, what right have we to expect different? Rather than an obstacle to be overcome on our own paths to godliness, sorrow is in its own way a godly attribute. So we are given crosses to bear. We are yoked down with heavy burdens. We are seemingly at times placed on a ship with no land in sight, no safe harbor into which we can sail. And I think that’s ok.

What’s important is not that we eliminate our sorrow. To live a life hell-bent on protecting ourselves from the despair and discouragement of mortality is to live a life destined for failure.  No, what’s important is that we learn to control it. Learn to use it to help other people. Learn to understand how our Father in Heaven feels about us, because like it or not sorrow is here to stay.

So what is my point? I guess it’s that, while there’s a lot I still don’t understand, I do know that God and His Son, Jesus Christ love us. I do know that they weep with and for us. I know that Jesus Christ has the power to succor us in our moments of darkness and despair, the power to teach us how to handle our sorrow and turn it into a tool for good. So don’t feel inadequate that those waves of seemingly impossible height keep crashing over your little ship with seemingly impossible strength. Don’t feel alone because all you can see is an empty horizon as you drift directionless in an endless ocean. Your sorrow is for your good. Embrace it. And let Jesus Christ captain your ship to where you need to go.