Our Pain
Pain is complex, individualized, unique to our perspectives yet universally experienced. I may not be able to relate to the nature of your exact pain or the circumstances of your hurt, but I can connect with the experience of suffering. We have all been wounded by this world and the scars we carry tell a story- one which can powerfully influence our perspective.
In light of the pain being experienced around the world right now, I am humbled to write these words as I know so many want relief from the weight of worry brought on by this unforeseen plague. I want to assure you, I am not seeking to minimize or delude this topic but rather desire to bring validation to our distress by providing a hope-filled perspective on the process and purposes of pain.
As author John Green so poetically stated, “The good times and the bad times both will pass. It will pass. It will get easier. But the fact that it will get easier does not mean that it doesn’t hurt now. And when people try to minimize your pain they are doing you a disservice. And when you try to minimize your pain you’re doing yourself a disservice. Don’t do that. The truth is that it hurts because it’s real. It hurts because it mattered. And that’s an important thing to acknowledge to yourself. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t end, that it won’t get better. Because it will.”
|The Whys and Wondering|
But will it get better?
Can what has been broken be healed once again?
Can what has caused such damage be redeemed?
The questions that arise in the space between the brokenness of our reality and the coming healing of heaven often start with the question of why and ends with the silence of our waiting.
Common perspectives of our raw emotions related to pain produce complicated grief, depression, anxiety, and hopelessness.
Pain breaks us.
It takes our breath away and leaves us with questions that reach beyond psychological explanations. It is in these dark times, we are forced to face our feelings rather than reframe them. We are called to cultivate courage, rest upon resilience, and make meaning out of lost memories.
How we each choose to do this work differs from one another yet our process is most often aligned in seeking to find the answers to the question “Why?”
We call this distress, the friction of loss which propels us into the process of grieving.
Through my own grieving, I have been brought to the humbling reality that pain is a part of my story that cannot be avoided or undone.
It must be heard. It must be felt.
Pain left unfelt will surely strangle our souls, steal our joy, and suffocate our spirits. It is here, with the choice to press in or push away, our perspectives of pain are formed.
Let's choose to widen our lens and broaden our focus of faith.
The Meaning-Making Process
In her book, Theology for Better Counseling, Virginia Holeman writes of the paradox of pain and provides a perspective helpful to us in processing our present perspectives and aligning them to our eternal hope of God’s coming glory. In her chapter on crisis and trauma, Holeman asserts that there are four primary sources of suffering found in scripture.
Pain resulting from our sinfulness
The pain we experience from the sinfulness of others
Pain resulting from the fallenness of the world
The pain we experience for the sake of the gospel
These categories, she notes, are not exclusive, but often interact within our experiences with suffering. In unraveling our perspectives of pain, it is important, to begin with identifying the source(s) of our suffering which can provide us with a pathway to make meaning of our experiences.
Regardless of the source, we cannot assume our perspectives will simply shift in light of scripture readings or heartfelt prayers. Sometimes, there are no words that can offer comfort in times of deep grieving. So, I am not here to tell you how to process your pain or what perspective to take on it. Instead, I want to share how I have and will continue to process the painful parts of my story.
Here & Now vs. There & Then View
Step One: Hold Space Here
My process of towards finding meaning in my painful experiences always starts with stopping to identify my hurt and holding space for it.
I make myself feel it. Not label it, dismiss it, or minimize it.
It's hard to feel what hurts. But giving voice to our experiences validates them rather than displacing them. Hannah did this in her mourning over her barrenness in 1 Samuel 1 we read in verse 10,
“She was deeply distressed and prayed to the Lord and wept bitterly…”
Hannah acknowledged the presence of her pain and took the time to pour out her soul before the Lord (Read full story: 1 Samual chapter 1 & 2).
As I have learned to set aside time to hold space to process my pain, whether in solitude or with support, I have found it offers me the gifts of courage, strength, and fearlessness.
Step Two: Name the Now
In addition to creating space for pain to be processed, I also seek to name my now. That is, name my raw emotions, my unmet expectations, even my questions that are present with me in the moments of pain. This is what we see David continually do throughout the Psalms.
Look at the beginning of Psalm 13:
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I take counsel in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart all day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me
Consider and answer me, O Lord my God;
light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,
lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,”
lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken. (v.1-4)
David questions God’s timing, His attentiveness, and His silence midst David's suffering. Oh, how many times have I felt like David did, begging God to show up in the present moments of my suffering, somehow feeling as though He simply did not see me.
Even the Apostle Paul states his raw emotions in 2 Corinthians 4:8-9, when he names his pain, saying,
“We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed;..”
This perspective Paul gives, hinges on one's ability to see beyond the here and now. He continues his letter by pointing back to the hope of what is to come...
Step Three: Keep Hope There
Here is where I am challenged the most in my meaning-making process. I cannot stay in the here and now, I cannot keep my hope, my happiness, my wholeness in that which was meant to be momentary. Every time pain strikes in my life, I am reminded of how easy it is for my heart to hold things too tightly.
Paul encourages the hope of what is everlasting in the ending verse of 2 Corinthians 4 saying,
“ So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. 17 For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, 18 as we look not to the things that are seen but to the unseen things. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal (2 Corinthians 4:16-19).”
I love how relatable this passage is... Tell me again Paul, "Don't Lose Heart!"
I Imagine Paul writing this with such emphasis, knowing personally the weight of pain and suffering. This is why he also reminds his readers of what is to come. As I begin to believe that my “here and now” is preparing me for what is right ahead of me in glory, my perspective changes. If nothing else, I know that pain ends and that what is there will be beyond comparison to the joy that I have experienced here on earth.
Step Four: Remember the Then
Finally, I seek daily to remember the “Then” - the coming day when there will be no more pain or suffering. In knowing the end of my story, I can make it through the struggles of each new chapter.
For several years now, I have made it a practice to go back to the end to make sense of everything at the beginning. Revelations 21:5-6 brings me such comfort when nothing else seems to subdue my struggling heart.
John writes,
“Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. 4 He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”5 And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also, he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” 6 And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.”
I cry reading this EVERY TIME.
Can we just think about this day for a minute?
This is what helps my healing process: Knowing and believing that no matter what, God wins in the end!
Pain and death will be defeated forevermore and my heart will finally rest in the wholeness of God’s eternal glory.
Friend, I cannot pretend to know the pain that you hold in the pages of your story. Nor, will I attempt to sugar-coat the cost of loss or the heartbreak of hurt. I give you one thing, my hand.
Hold it as tight as you can.
Reach out for it as often as you need and know that you are not alone in your pain.
Till Then & There, Keep pressing in.