Why does it seem to be that only in our pain and suffering that the image of Christ in our hearts grows more radiant and compelling? Why does the splendor of His beauty become illuminated in our troubles more than in our blessing or success? Is it connected to the fact that he was called a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief even in prophecy? Is this perhaps why He made it so abundantly clear that he never promised to lead us away from suffering but rather right into the heart of it? Is it because that’s where he resides as one of his most familiar places? And how can we truly know a person if we don’t spend any time where they live?
