Even in Pain, Love remains

Pain comes to all of us. It arrives in many forms—grief, loneliness, the ache of betrayal, the silent exhaustion of the body, the bewilderment of the heart. At times it seems to consume everything, covering over the light, leaving us believing that love itself has gone. Yet this is never truly so. Even in pain, love remains.

 

Love is not fragile, though we often think it so. Love is not the fleeting warmth of good days, nor is it the absence of struggle. Love is the current that underlies all life. It is the truth that abides when every illusion has fallen away. Pain may veil it from our eyes, but it cannot erase it. Love is not broken by sorrow, nor destroyed by loss. It endures, even when we cannot feel its presence.

 

When we are caught in suffering, we may forget. We may imagine that we are abandoned. Yet love does not forget us. It does not turn its face away. It abides within us like a hidden flame, steady and unyielding. And if we fall too far to remember, love remembers us. It calls us back, softly, again and again, until we return to its embrace.

 

Indeed, there is a strange alchemy in suffering. Pain has a way of stripping us bare, dissolving our defenses, piercing through our illusions of control. And in that rawness, love often reveals itself most powerfully. Not as sentiment or sweetness, but as truth. As presence. As the force that binds us to one another and to life itself. In pain, love whispers: You are not alone. You belong. Even here, you are held.

 

This is why the great teachers, the poets, the mystics, have always spoken of love not as an escape from suffering, but as a companion within it. Love does not always take away our pain, but it gives us the courage to bear it, the strength to grow through it, and the hope that healing is possible.

 

To remember that love remains—even when everything else seems shattered—is to place our trust in what is eternal. It is to know that the truest essence of our being cannot be destroyed by loss, nor diminished by sorrow. Love endures, unbroken, forever guiding, forever waiting, forever carrying us forward.

 

So when trials come, when despair seems to close around us, let us not fear that love has departed. It is there, abiding quietly in the very center of our being, waiting to be remembered. And if we cannot remember, let us rest in this one assurance: Love remembers us. Love remains. Always.

 

 

In the quiet between heartbeats a whisper calls you home, you are not broken you are becoming. These threads of silence and sound are letters from the threshold, offerings from the edge of stillness. Nigel  TEA AND ZEN - MAIN LIBRARY                                                                                                                                                                   DONATE