Of Sorrow Observed

Let us come together once more, beloveds, and speak on another subject: Sorrow.

We need not define it, for every soul with the gift of emotion has felt its sting. Instead, we will turn toward its purpose and its use in the inner life and in refinement.

We will speak of sorrow observed.

There are times when sorrow comes unannounced, sudden as a winter morning intruding upon early fall, when ice cracks beneath our feet without warning. And there are other times when sorrow builds in layers, when we begin to baste ourselves in tears and the sensation of despair, and we admit—quietly, honestly—that we have learned to love sorrow intimately.

Sorrow has become such an old friend that we create playlists specifically to trigger childhood despair, all in an effort to re-feel the pain and bleed once more on the page for all.

We attempt to impart a piece of ourselves as an act of giving, all for a greater and lasting reward—the kind none will weigh or measure in this life.

When sorrow is observed consistently, it becomes despair.

Sorrow begins with sadness and blooms into sorrow, then into despair, then into depression. This, we intuit, is the emotional order of operations.

We claim no authority in these matters—only a need to feel, see, share, and understand a thing from within the thing itself.

Take sorrow for example: we first had to understand sadness, and to do so we had to learn to appreciate it, to identify it, and then to articulate it for you.

These are not small things. And though we are insufficient, we keep speaking, sharing, allowing our overflowing sorrow to become blessing and love.

We have tasted the sweetness of sadness and also the warning that comes from wallowing too long in the mire.

We have tasted, and then learned, sorrow as sadness maintained over long periods of time. Hours first, then days, then weeks, months—and finally years.

In our research and exploration of the soul within sorrow, somewhere in those long months, we realized we had embraced and embodied sadness for so long that it had morphed into sorrow, then despair… and near the one-year mark we recognized it had become depression.

We have tasted all the flavors of sorrow a soul can know, and we can say this plainly:

They will always be with us.

We cannot live honestly without allowing sorrow its place. Living always carries the possibility of sorrow on every investment of self.

Sorrow is not a thing to fear. It is a tool in the Father’s hand—a means of training the heart to be tender when pressed instead of cracked and brittle.

Sorrow is now joy to us, and honestly, we can barely tell the difference. None will believe us, and indeed, sometimes we do not believe our own admission.

Still, it remains true.

We have felt sorrow and tears rising instantly—and then, in a moment, through the Father’s lens of sanctification and His personal investment in us, we have seen sorrow turn to gratitude and then to joy in the space of one breath.

When you fully realize that sorrow is a sign of God’s favor, not His rejection, you begin the transition to new sight—new ways of seeing the world.

Everything spoken in the Word becomes true and evident, plain as day.

We see the path now: straight as an arrow, littered with the blood and footsteps of sorrow.

We walk it willingly, using sorrow as an interchangeable word for joy observed.

Tears, whether from either source, need no examination—only recognition.

So this is our take on sorrow, and how it can be used, embraced, and even wielded as a tool against the lie of self as separate from unity.

As always, take what feels true to you, for this teaching cost us dearly. It marks, we believe, six thousand-some words written today alone.

Amen and amen.