Why Do We Hurt So Much?

"More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us."-Romans 5:3-5

   There's a river running deep inside me, a pang that stirs in circles, it cuts me to the core. This silent madness, this stirring of my soul, it's wandering through every hallway of my heart, as your words cut me fresh wounds, new scars that stand their ground.
   Like fingers hitting metal strings, over and over, wanting to give in to failure, longing for an easy way out, but there is none. Will I ever make the song? Will my hands ever become strong enough to push through the hurt and find triumph on the other side? I want to know, I don't want to just stand back and wonder, wonder what it might have been like if I had given it my all, if I had fought the good fight with zeal instead of cowering behind all of my fears, my growing, growing, fears.
       You tell me that the pain will come, whether I choose to face it or not, but why is that so hard for me to grasp? Why do we hurt so much? Why do I even ask this, when I know You've hurt worse for me, bleeding there on that tree? There has to be a purpose in all of this, some reason for all of this pain. Maybe my heart is like my hands, trying again and again to push against those strings, wanting so badly to taste the song, but all too frustrated and tired to get there. I know what it's like though, that gap in the end of the tunnel. There's nothing sweeter than the taste of that air, when I come up from those waters, those raging, violent waters.
    It makes me wonder, in a way, would I really know it's joy, the fullness of that kind of peace, if I hadn't been tied so deep underneath that storm? Maybe the torment is more than necessary. Maybe we hurt so that we can hear the song.