About Pain

5-7-11
I have been overwhelmed by the pain in the world. So many times I put my head down on my pillow and am haunted by the faces of people I have encountered who are in the midst of pain and heartbreak. Now sometimes the pain is a direct result of choices they have made – they are essentially dealing with all the “fall-out” of things they have done or said or been in the past. This is hard and frankly it sucks, but it is something we all have to deal with, me and you and everyone. We don’t want to deal with it, but if we are wise, we do and we realize our part in it all and trudge through, trying to learn as much as we can and make peace and goodness out of it as much as possible. Sometimes the pain is completely random, we are diagnosed with heart problems, or a tragedy occurs and takes someone we love, or a tornado rips through our town and destroys all we had planned, not to mention all our neighbors had planned, or something of the same type of thing. This also sucks, but it seems more unfair, like why me, and yet, as we look around, it seems that most everybody has those “why me” times and if they haven’t yet, we all have a sense that they will someday and we half smirk/half frown as we think about their naiveté. We say to ourselves, “Oh someday it will happen to you and you will understand like it or not and I will feel sorry for you then, but you will not be so cocky.” But, in spite of having to deal with the consequences of our own past choices and being struck randomly with painful circumstances (no matter how universal it is, it still is unbelievably hard), there is a thread of hope in these painful times. No, we do not wake up the morning after this happens and jump out of bed, glad to have been struck in such a fashion with the blind hand of life. But, those of us who are real people, forging through life with purpose, realizing that there is More to life than just the everyday work and pay your bills life that most people live, we attack these times the best we can, we see them as bad, but as the perspective dawns on them, as the reality sinks in, we usually find ourselves changing, growing, getting stronger, becoming a better person – something happens in these times and we sense it, deep in our souls. “There is an end to this” – and at the end, things are better – maybe even better than they ever were before the pain. We do not completely understand this, but it is there, nevertheless. Sometimes it takes a long time to make it to that place, but we get there, eventually, as long as we keep connecting with people we love and who love us, a God who loves us, and wants the best for us, and forging ahead, searching, looking, willing to become, to unfold, like a rose that is budding. I am reminded of a story one of our friends wrote about recently, as she and her husband rushed to their former home in Georgia, where a tornado had destroyed a town, taking with it the life that those people had known. No government aided disaster relief puts back together the pieces of your life in times like that. But our friend talked about this woman whose house had been shredded like a block of cheese. Our friend and her family had spent a portion of their day picking up family pictures strewn about because the tornado had no respect at all for family memories. And this woman, whose life had been so devastated, was a picture of hope – just as sure as she could be that there were wonderful things to come of this (sometimes when people say this I think they need to be medicated, because they must be delusional, but the sense I get is that this was a real spirit of hope, sure that the thread of hope she felt would lead her to something better and that she was not going to give up that thread, but instead she would follow it to a place far away from that field of devastation where she, and all she knew was new and alive and had a meaning and purpose she had never dreamed before the tornado came.) I am not suggesting that we all be jolly about pain here, simply saying for these 2 types of pain, there is an end that is often much better than we dream in the middle of them if we will go through the pain with God and some loving friends.
Now, this is actually not a story about the hope in pain – if you continue to read what I write, there will be more on that topic, but not this time. This is actually about a whole different kind of pain. This is about a kind of pain that slapped me in the face multiple times in the last couple months (and I actually see if very often in my day to day life). This pain is so heinous that I cringe at it. I fume at it. I get nauseated at it and I weep the deep places of my heart about it, more than almost anything else in the whole world. I have dedicated my life to changing it. I can no longer sit by and allow it to go on without a fight!
The first two times I wanted to tell you about occurred when my wife and I were sitting in church. I know, church should not be a place where one witnesses the worst kind of pain that exists and I want to tell you right now that my church is NOT a bad place. It has a group of people that come together to try their best to know God and do what He wants. Many of them live out the love of Jesus in their everyday lives – this story is not intended to be harmful to them – in fact – my church is a good place to learn about God and hang out with other people who are trying to get closer to Him. It is not the church’s fault, at least not directly, that these painful things were going on – the people are simply doing what they know, doing their best – I also want to tell you that this pain is not the fault of my pastor. He is a good man – I love him. He loves God very much. He would be equally grieved by the pain that I saw.
So, the first of them occurred just down the row from me. There was a young man. He was not peculiar in his dress, jeans and t-shirt, or in his look, he was well kempt and respectful. He was not making strange faces or disrupting the service. In fact, he was working, I think. He was with a disabled man in a wheelchair, who could not push himself. This young man was the caretaker, the chair pusher. There was something about the way he carried his body, kind of bent a little in the shoulders. There was a sadness in his eyes, something empty and lost, it seemed to me. He was not weeping and upset, but he looked as if he had taken it on the chin from life a few times. He was there, next to the handicapped man, with his dark backpack. So, as I said, it was Easter Sunday and the sermon was excellent – the pastor did a great job of speaking about how amazing our God is and that the fact that Jesus was resurrected basically meant that God did not do things the way everyone else did and we no longer needed to live all bound up by and controlled by and imprisoned by what was going on in the world – we could live lives that were free. Full of joy and meaning and purpose, our lives could explode with greatness!! I have got to say, I am excited about that message – I have lived far too much of my life bound and imprisoned, wrapped up with stuff and with no real peace in my life and now my life is amazing beyond description – all because of this Jesus of Easter!
So, this poor sad looking young chair pusher, sat there in that service, surrounded by the love of God, with the words of freedom circling around his head like he was a Sunday comic strip on steroids, all he needed to do was wake up, pay attention, grab even one of those word bubbles and ingest it – breathe it in - and feel the life rush into him. But, what was he doing? He was reading a cheesy paperback novel (now I must admit here that I do not know what he was reading specifically, but it was a small paperback book…). He would read his novel, every once in a while looking up when the pastor was particularly animated, kinda like he was tuning into CNN to see if there was some juicy piece of news or something and then he would go back to his novel. Then , just before the end of the service, when things were kinda wrapping up and all, he put his book away, got up and wheeled the disabled gentleman out, not to be seen again. This young man, slightly bent over, with sad eyes, in his jeans and t-shirt – he represents the worst kind of pain.
Another of the face to face moments I have had with this unbearable pain was also in church (please re-read the section now on how this problem is not my church in particular). It was the Sunday after Easter and the pastor was speaking about Mary of Magdala. She was the first person to see Jesus after He rose from the dead and she was first one Jesus trusted with his message of life. She was also unlikely in her being chosen. She was from a dumpy town, famous for its pickling industry and looked down upon by the people of the region. She was a woman and women were just the most beat down, pitiful, nonrespected people in those days. And to top it all off, she, prior to meeting Jesus, had 7 demons living inside her. Now, she was a pitiful case, but Jesus got rid of her demons, and then she followed him around. And He chose her for one of the most important jobs in all of history. He didn’t choose someone who was high society, or from the country club. He didn’t choose someone who was powerful or respected. He didn’t hold her past against her, but loved her unselfish and tender heart. He pronounced her worthy, even though she wasn’t until she met Him. Now, toward the end of talking about all this, the pastor said this great line: “Now, you may feel like your past is holding onto you and you will never be free of it. You are wrong. Jesus says that you have worth far beyond what you have done in the past.” Now, I don’t know about you, but that is phenomenal news!! I am not proud of my past. If you were to probe it, you would be shocked and I would be ashamed. But Jesus does not hold that against me anymore!!! Instead, He chooses me for something amazing for Him!! Now this makes me want to jump up and down, to express the thrill to everyone I know!! But, the next thing I heard was my wife leaning over and saying, “Why isn’t anyone else excited about that? That’s good news!” I looked around and I agonized to see dazed people, sitting in rows, then I became angry – overwhelmed by the fact that this amazing Truth was right there in front of them and they seemed to not see it – they were missing it, or they were dead! This, this is the worst kind of pain – beyond grief and sadness and destruction.
The third example of this horrific kind of pain that has absolutely slapped me in the face recently has been enacted by many many people I know over the years, some friends and some acquaintances, and some that I do not even know, but lately it has been particularly hard to see in some people that we love very much, who we have invested our lives in loving. The details vary greatly, but the basic story is the same. A person faces life, and while going through life, they face major problems. In the midst of the problems they are presented with the gift of a way of going through the problems so that, in time, they can grow and see the thread of hope of a better day. That gift is given to them in the form of friendships and unconditional love they have never known. It is given to them in the form of resources provided out of love and with no other agenda, but to show them that there is a way through – to be a thread giver, if you will. It is given to them in form of support and advice and experience from having walked that same road in the past. It is given to them in form of tears shed, prayers shared, and late night texts and phone calls agonized over. It is given to them in the form of lunches sacrificed and dinners shared. Now, there is nothing more beautiful than being a thread giver and watching someone grasp onto the thread, with as much grasp as they have, and then to wriggle and writhe their way, searching and seeking and clawing their way to the other side of the pain – then to have the joy of celebrating on the other side! But, there is nothing more painful in all the world than to watch someone presented with something so beautiful as this thread of hope and instead to choose to go right back to the place where the pain is; to stop looking for the thread; to stop searching for the God who can help them through to the other side of the pain; to deny and run away from the love of those people who have been thread givers to them. Instead of grasping onto the thread, they choose to live in their pain – they choose the familiar heartbreak of their lives over the unfamiliar possibilities of the future. They choose to wallow in the mud, when the spa is waiting and free. They choose shoes with no soles in favor of brand new shoes with jet packs on the heels! They choose to ride a broken down moped instead of flying in supersonic jets! They choose to read their cheesy novel and keep their sad face over grabbing the words out of the air and finding some meaning and healing in life. They choose to sit in their rows and satisfy their self-imposed requirement to be religious with that particular time instead of celebrating freedom! This is the worst type of pain of all! This crushes my heart and makes me want to tear my 40 year old thinning hair out. This is a tragedy of tragedies!

So, if you are a person who has faced disaster and is clinging to a thread, keep on clinging – find some others to cling with you, keep searching for the God who made you and loves you and hang on! You will get there!

If you are a person who is a thread giver, keep giving the threads – pass on the hope – let them know that they are loved and cared for and that you will never abandon them and you will never leave them and that God won’t either. Many you will find will find hope and meaning and peace in the world – many will put down their novels and grab up the hope in those threads like a thirsty man in the desert presented with a jug of water. Some will break your heart, I am sorry to say, but don’t let that stop you. Even Jesus, who was the most influential man that ever lived, had some who chose to wallow in their pain (read in the Bible Mark 10:17-27). But having someone not accept it doesn’t make the message any less True. When you feel the stinging pain of watching someone you love deny the Truth, pick up their novel and read away, take heart, you re doing the right thing – but you are not the one who has the ultimate responsibility for them. You only have the responsibility to be faithful and true in what you are asked. They have to choose.

If you are one of those people who is choosing to read your novel, to deny the love of true friends in favor of what you have always known, to stay with the same old pain and badness because it is easy even if it sucks. Would you consider just talking to God about it? Invite Him into your world right now – and keep doing it – i think sometimes we find ourselves denying the threads of hope because something inside us is too broken to actually see the Truth – we have no idea what to do next, or if there’s even a possibility that the thread might be True. Ask God to heal you inside. Ask Him to give you a new vision of what life can be like. Ask Him to change Your mind – keep asking – do your best – surround yourself with people who have an idea of what hope really is – thread givers – don’t isolate yourself in your pain, behind your little cheesy fiction book – there is so much More to life than you have seen if you will just lift up your head.

At More than more we cannot prevent pain from entering into your life. In fact, all of us have been pretty well slammed by pain. But, what we can promise is that we will journey through it with you. We will care about you and we will continue to point you in the direction of goodness and healing. We will journey with you toward More than you have been living for.

If this sounds like something you might be interested in, please join us this Thursday, May 19th, 6:45-8:00 PM, at McAllister Recreation Center, just off 20th and Schuyler Ave, Lafayette.