It was a warm summer day in Vermont when friend and fellow saint and sinner Molly Collins introduced me to Frederick Buechner at his longtime home. That was some seven years ago. I remember at the time being struck by this well-known writer and thinker’s openness and honesty with an otherwise complete stranger. He shared his hospitality with us that day in the form of a bowl of soup, a tour of his home and his favorite authors. (I was glad to know that we even shared the same favorite book in the form of The Brothers’ Karamazov.)
But what struck me most was Buechner’s ability to speak about some of the pain in his life with a gentle and honest matter-of-factness, not pretending that the pain wasn’t there, not presenting a slick image, and certainly not indulging in self-pity, either. Buechner’s recent thoughts on pain spoke to me this morning. They come compliments of Abbie at Unsteady Saint: http://unsteadysaint.com/frederick-buechner-on-the-stewardship-of-pain/
Buechner’s reflections beg the question: what does it mean to be a good steward of our pain? Can pain ever be a gift? If so, how do we “steward” it well? Send your thoughts along and I’ll republish them for the benefit of the Fellowship.