For a lot of people, death is the hardest pain to overcome. The logic is understandable. It's the end of life as we know it, never to see our beloved family member, friend, or pet again. However, from my experience, the pain you have to endure for the suffering of the living is much harder than the pain you have to endure for the loss of the dying. Even as a teenager, I never had a problem wrapping my mind around death. It seemed to be a natural end to an otherwise natural life. What I couldn't understand was what I thought to be the death among the living: the mentally ill.

When I was in high school, my brother was diagnosed schizophrenic. At the time, I knew very little about mental illness except for the fact that I had an uncle who went to Vietnam only to come back a little "crazy," as people would say. To make matters worse, this was my brother who I shared a room with; the person I was probably closer to at the time than anyone else. He was my idol, and I wanted to be like him. However, one day he abruptly began a new life somewhere else, not physically, but mentally, and I haven't seen my brother since. Instead, I just had to deal with what is left of him, a body that causes havoc and heartache wherever it goes, and a body that almost took my life.

Another reason death makes sense is that the light of joy eventually shines again. On the contrast, mental illness is like a shadow that seems to cover the land even on the brightest day. I lost my brother over fourteen years ago,but I'm constantly reminded of his leaving every time I go home to see my mom. He has his own room where his body lives. Whenever, I get to feeling sorry for myself, I think of my mom; she has the hard job. She cares for his body every day, she keeps it safe, she tries to the best of her ability to give it purpose in a society that doesn’t yet know what to do with a body quite like his.

For these reasons, my mom is the light I see in darkness. She is one of the few people in life I know that chooses to face suffering head on every morning and she does it with grace. Not only is she the light I see in darkness, she teaches me, without saying a word,what light truly is. It's not the absence of despair. Instead,it's the glimmer of hope we find in hopeless situations. It's the evidence we have to believe in, when there's little to no evidence.

If you're anything like me, you probably spend most of your time trying to avoid darkness. You work hard to avoid the darkness of unmet needs and wants. You work out to avoid the darkness of bad health and illness. And, you look over those who are suffering in order to avoid the darkness of pain and sorrow. However, God has been teaching and reminding me that joy and pain must go together. The must always be held in tension to make sense of this life. Some of us are forced to enter the darkness, others choose to enter it, knowing that it is the way of the cross.

To those are who basking in the light of joy, the darkness of pain exists whether you are aware of it or not. To those who are in darkness, perspective is more important than escape, there is light to be found right in the midst of where you are. And to those coming out of darkness, don't forget what your eyes have seen. Your experience will help those who are still seeking hope in a hopeless situation.

—Marshall Wade