How My Grief Became a Blessing

So I believe I just found the title of my first book; go no further than the title of this post.

While in the midst of the lowest of lows,
I allowed that feeling to cause me to be
the person who befriended
those whom most needed a friend.

My inability to fit in
led me to deeper connections
with more interesting people;
for neither party tainted the kinship
with judgements or conditional love.

On some nights, I would allow my insomnia,
my sleep deprivation, to make me a clearer channel
and I'd write the thoughts of God.

Without fully recognizing what I was doing,
I would use the pain I have experienced,
again and again,
as a way to empathize and show patient compassion
for those who have also suffered greatly.

Not one of my friends had to tell me
why they felt the way they felt or
why they acted the way they acted
for me to love them wholly and completely,
just as they were.

Time and time again, I would
use the way other people had mistreated me,
to guide me towards the way of love.
People had judged me
before they knew anything about me
because they could not get past the fact
that I was always the epicenter
of misunderstandings.

My heart-ache caused me to lean on
the nurturing presence Mother Nature,
spurring me to travel on foot
through mountains and valleys,
through forest streams and rocky outcroppings.
This journey led me straight to God;
the God out there,
and the God within.

And now--
well now I have reached a place
where I can proclaim that my grief became a blessing
and my wounds a privilege.
For my grief has spurred me
to heal not only myself,

but also those around me
with a fervor that can only be born
of personal strife.