Suffering

This morning, a dear friend on her blog posted the question of what would you want God to let you know today. Several questions that sounded alot like accusations flashed through my brain. "Why" was not a good word for me to start my question with today. When I pushed through the shell of stupid indignation to the brokenness encased within me, the real questions floated up pretty easily.
"God, is my suffering for my own sake, or is it doing any good for anyone else?"
My thought was that if I suffered for my own sake, God could just keep it. I know "comfortable" is not exactly what I should be striving for, but it looks pretty good at the moment.
Immediately on the heels of that thought came the answer, to both questions, "Of course not." God's not using my suffering for my or anyone else's benefit at the moment, because I'm not letting him. I'm hoarding it, enshrouded in it, closed off.
I'm not using it as an opportunity to draw closer to God, to rely on His strength, to lean not on my own understanding, to grow, trust, have faith, learn, surrender, obey...
I believe that as the Body of Christ, we're all in this together--that I have a responsibility to let God use me to touch the lives of others with His love and care. I'm not doing so hot on that lately. I can see where I should be--even how to get there--but I won't open the little crack that will allow God to flood me with the grace I need.
Dumb, huh? It seems like it would be so easy. I float in my bubble of despair with God lapping against the walls I have erected. If I look out, I can see the eddies of His entreaties swirling against my barriers: this friend's overture, that scripture floating up unbidden, for goodness sake, my book is about this very problem, and it calls to me to release it from my mind and let it go out into the world for the sake of others.
Why in the world don't I want to?
I feel compelled to end this with some ray of hope. Hmmm. Well, at least I've written about it now. Maybe that's a step in the right direction?