“But thou, O Lord, art forever the same, yet thou art not forever angry with us, for thou hast compassion on our dust and ashes. It was pleasing in thy sight to reform my deformity, and by inward stings thou didst disturb me so that I was impatient until thou wert made clear to my inward sight. By the secret hand of thy healing my swelling was lessened, the disordered and darkened eyesight of my mind was from day to day made whole by the stinging salve of wholesome grief.”
-St. Augustine – The Confessions, Book 7; chapter 8
Is there not some part of us that feels a sort of rightness when we grieve? It is as if we know that through pain, we have delved into the rich realm that happiness so rarely touches…
22Tears 