Blessed are… Those who Mourn

Fear of being speechless. Fear of not relating. Fear of not feeling deeply. Fear of not being compassionate enough. Each of these core fears were at the root of an anxiety of mine - not being able to interact rightly with those who were grieving or suffering. How could I grieve with them if I didn’t personally have anything to lament? How could I live into the beatitude “Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted”? I wrestled with questions like this for years even as some of my own friends experienced loss, injustice, and seeming hopelessness. I just couldn’t seem to relate, no matter how desperately I wanted to.