“Where does it hurt?”
Do you remember when you were a kid and you’d get sick or fall and someone, usually a parent, would ask you where it hurt?
Such a simple question when you’re small. The answer was usually easy—”My elbow” “My stomach” “My knee” “My throat.”
And then you get a little older, and the question might change to “What happened?” And the answers become a little more complicated. “So and so said this…” “I don’t understand why…” etc.
And then you get into the teens and the question might become “Do you need to talk?” and the answers become longer, “I’m afraid I’ll never…” “I’m overwhelmed by…” etc.
But I feel the actual question we’re always asking our loved ones is still “Where does it hurt?”
What hurts, and how can I help? That’s the core of the question. And my God, isn’t that such a relieving thing to hear, no matter the age?
I love how that’s the first thing that comes to mind when anyone seems to be in pain. At least it is for me. If someone I love says “Ow.” I say “Where?”
Sometimes it’s hard to know where to point when I’m on the receiving end of that question. There have been so many good things happening, and yet, if I pause too long and look around, I can’t help but feel the weight of everything going on in the world.
For the first time in a long time, I’m truly having to trust that not only does God have a plan, but that it’s for the best. Maybe that’s why I am in the place I am right now. There must be something to learn.
The longing for those simple answers is stronger these days. I wish I could say, “My knee,” when someone asked me what hurts, and it would be as easy as rinsing out grit and moving on with a flower-patterned band-aid.
Alas, nowadays it takes a bit more effort to pinpoint the problem and figure out what hurts, why, and what to do about it.
I’m so grateful for the ones who still take the time to ask.
Thank you for reading.