Quotes About Pain

Rejection has long ties pulling the pain of yesterday into the situations of today. What felt hopeless yesterday will feed a hopelessness into today unless we cut those ties.

Make no mistake, those who are the most eager to harshly criticize others are often the ones most desperate to keep hidden their own secret sins or unresolved pain.

We must feel the pain to heal the pain. If we never allow ourselves to feel it, we won't acknowledge it's there.

Numbing the pain never goes to the source of the real issue to make us healthier. It only silences our screaming need for help.

In fact our brains respond so similarly to rejection and physical pain that Tylenol reduces the emotional pain rejection elicits.

It's necessary for you to not let pain rewrite your memories, and it's absolutely necessary not to let pain ruin your future.

The world's plan always leads us to places of pain, loneliness, and a deep ache for belonging that seems just out of reach.

The roots of this friendship that once nourished me in deep places now ache with a barren flow. The conversations and connections have been hollowed out and replaced with a stabbing throb of a pierced soul. The arrow dug deep.

In the middle of the pain you didn't cause, the change you didn't want, or the reality you didn't know was coming . . . your life can still be beautiful.

felt stuck with a suffocating sense of wanting to feel better but not knowing how. My brain has such a hard time overriding my heart sometimes. One rejection after another did quite a number on my heart. And each new rejection didn't just add hurt; it multiplied the pain that was already there. That accumulation created a dark feeling of hopeless defeat.

I don't know what to say or how to say it." So I said nothing. Not a word. I stuffed it all down and started to build a barrier to hide behind. After the incident, I smiled when I saw her, but I held her at a distance. She knew something was wrong, but when she questioned me about it, I lied. "Everything's fine," I said. But everything wasn't fine. Not at all.

Cynicism dressed like a security guard, making me believe that if I hoped for less, it would protect me and prevent more pain.

And the gaping hole left behind is in some ways worse than death. If their absence was caused by death, you would grieve their loss. But when their absence is caused by rejection, you not only grieve their loss but you also have to wrestle through the fact that they wanted this.

All I have to do is stand at the gravesite of my sister who died way too young and in way too much pain to be reminded that none of this is easy or tidy. Some things won't be fixed on this side of eternity; they just have to be walked through.

Hurting but still hoping—that is the human journey.

C. S. Lewis said it best: "We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."1

A heaviness settled in that I couldn't explain or pinpoint exactly. I'm not sure how to properly describe it, except to say on different days it crept up with varying personas that seemed to hold me together and rip me apart simultaneously. Cynicism dressed like a security guard, making me believe that if I hoped for less, it would protect me and prevent more pain. In reality, though, it was a thief in disguise, out to steal every bit of closeness between me and those I love.

Because rejection is an abstract word that doesn't have an image attached to it, I

But lying in the critical care unit—an abdomen distending more and more with each passing hour, tubes running in and out of a body refusing to function, and a pain pump set to deliver the highest doses but still not relieving the pain—will make death look quite appealing.

Today's rejections, big or subtle, are like stealth bombs that zing straight to my core, locating hurts from my past and making them agonizingly present all over again.

We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.

Sometimes, though, when God calls us to be set apart for another purpose, it's difficult to believe God's goodness in the hurt.

Memories are both our greatest treasures and our greatest sorrows.

I think C. S. Lewis said it best: "We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."1