I once heard a story on the radio of a woman who had experienced a terrible loss and could not deal with the pain. She went to see the wise man of the village who instructed her to go from home to home, asking for a mustard seed, but only if that home knew no sorrow.

Her challenge was to collect three seeds. As she set out she was confused as to how this quest would help her with her unbearable sadness, but she was determined to quickly gather the three seeds to bring to the wise man.  Home after home offered stories of their own sorrow and she left them all without the sought mustard seed. Along the way she began to listen and share in her neighbors’ suffering. Along the way she traded her own grieving heart for a giving heart. Despondent, she returned to the wise man, feeling a failure  as she had not one seed to offer him until he helped her to see that by her giving of herself she stepped out of her own sorrow and was healed. (Since I posted this blog, my friend Yolanda clarified the origin of the story. Read more here.)

We all carry sorrow around with us. Some, more than others. Most days, sadness is held deeply in my hip pocket, barely noticeable unless I start to dig for something else. Soon, however, I will be holding sadness in my breast pocket as my children and grandchild leave for long term mission assignments. The question is not how to avoid sadness or sorrow, but how we deal with it.

A few weeks ago I wrote about fear and how we sometimes allow this mostly wasteful and often illogical emotion to block blessings in our lives. As sad as I will be to see my children leave, I am so much more excited for all of them as they set out on an amazing journey that has been laid before them by God and which they willingly follow.

Age and wisdom teach us that sadness does lessen as time goes on and we adjust to a new reality. If we take it out of the breast pocket too soon and deeply stuff it into the hip pocket, we lessen our ability to fully feel the full range of emotion, good and bad, as we strive to leave it undisturbed and forgotten. When we are fearful of feeling whatever we have buried deep we miss the blessing of feeling deep love, reverent awe and immense joy.

Here is the irony. By accepting and recognizing our true feelings, our capacity for joy is increased. We may think life would be wonderful if we could only keep joy and love close to our hearts, ready at a moment’s notice to cheer or comfort us, while never reaching deeply into our hip pockets where sorrow, anger and fear reside, but life is not neatly organized. Life is messy, intertwined and confusing.

For a while, sadness will be in my breast pocket. I will keep it there, surrounded by love and the beat of my heart, knowing that along the way I will be changed and ready to celebrate the messy, unorganized realm of life to the fullest.