Today is a good day to write this - a subject that has been on my mind for years now. I feel rotten today - probably food poisoning. It feels like my intestines are being tied up in knots and my whole body wants to collapse in on itself. I'm pretty confident right now that this will pass in a day or two. A few years ago, though, I felt like this and it didn't pass so quickly. For weeks - I'm not sure exactly how long - I felt like this. It was long enough for me to start wondering if this was a permanent condition, but short enough that I didn't take it to the medical profession (I tend to resist going to doctors).
"This too shall pass" is a popular saying to share with those who are suffering. For many, it's a source of true comfort. But what if "this" - whatever it is - doesn't pass? There have been times in my life when it would have been more comforting for someone to say to me: "don't worry, one day you'll die". The prospect of death was much more reassuring than that of a life with less (whether physical, emotional or spiritual) pain. I should qualify that by saying that the comfort of death lies in the promise of eternal life to come afterward. I wouldn't find it so inviting if it was the final end to everything.
What if, for the forseeable future - perhaps even the rest of a lifetime - "this" won't pass? Some problems actually just get bigger and older with time. Pain isn't so bad if it's just for a day, but if it goes on and on unrelenting, then what? And sometimes, we can flippantly throw someone that phrase "this too shall pass" with no understanding of what is really under the pain they are experiencing. What people complain about is not necessarily what's really hurting. It's a lot easier to talk about the flu or a difficult colleague at work than it is to explain an abused childhood (I'm deliberately using an example that doesn't apply to me).
What I personally find comforting is not simply the hope of a trial or challenge coming to an end in this lifetime, but knowing that behind every pain, God has a purpose and a plan. I try to ask myself (have I said this before?) "what am I learning?" Because, you know what? I want this pain to be proactive! If I'm hurting, I want it to achieve something! I don't want to just be hanging around waiting for the hard stuff to be over and done with so I can get to the good stuff. I can't get to the good stuff unless I learn from the hard stuff.
I don't tend to ask others in pain "what are you learning from this?" because I figure it's likely to come across as pretty insensitive and arrogant. But I probably won't say "this too shall pass" either. It might not pass. This might be part of the rest of your physical life. But God has a purpose and a plan. Do we want in on it or not? Excuse me while I go and study. :)
Showing posts with label suffering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suffering. Show all posts
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Saturday, December 17, 2011
No Pain But Mine
Several years ago, we had a car accident that wrote off our car. While we profited from it financially through no fault of our own (we had bought the car that got wrecked at such a bargain price that its insured value was significantly higher than what we actually paid for it), this was the catalyst for such a tumultuous and dark period of our lives that I thought of it as The Accident for a long time. It was one of those events that you expect to define the rest of your life.
Outwardly, many would wonder how this could have been such a devastating event. Our children emerged unscathed, apart from a seemingly irrational fear of "tipping over" (even five years on) when we take a corner a little fast while driving. Our injuries were trivial. But within our emotional lives the cascade of conseqences was far-reaching - to the point of being almost unbearable at times.
To someone who had suffered a "real" trial, such as the death of a child or spouse, I'm sure my pain at the time must have seemed ridiculous. I could hardly have complained about my puny injuries to someone suffering from chronic illness. And yet, as irrational as it may have seemed from the outside, my soul was in agony.
Apart from the personal growth that can come from suffering, there is something else to be gained from pain. The Apostle Paul wrote:
In other words, God provides comfort in our times of suffering that enables and teaches us to comfort others in their suffering.
Unfortunately, in our weakness, we can develop an attitude of no pain but mine. No pain but mine is worthy of sympathy. In our deepest hearts, especially in the midst of a "big" trial, we can look down our noses at the "little" trials of others. No pain but mine is real pain. Without even realising it, we can despise our brothers and sisters for struggling to deal with what may seem to be small issues.
Clearly this incredibly destructive attitude is not what God has in mind when He comforts us in our grief. Certainly those suffering "little"trials need to be sensitive about what they say to those dragging their way through "big" trials... but the reverse is true as well.
There is no place in a true community for the no pain but mine attitude. Believe me, I've been guilty of it - I guess many of us have at some time or other, but we need to recognise where it comes from, and that's certainly not from God. After all, Jesus Christ doesn't turn up His nose in disgust when we cry out to Him - and He suffered more than any other man (or woman, or child).
I know some beautiful people who have suffered the kind of pain that makes me imagine having my heart ripped out of my chest and trampled on. What I love and admire about these people is that they have the love and compassion to see beyond their own pain to the suffering of others - however apparently trivial - and to be genuinely sympathetic, despite their own trials. This is what I aspire to as God softens my hard-heartedness and hard-headedness.
So often, because we only see the surface, we fail to understand how deeply and lastingly "small" things can hurt our brothers and sisters. We can also get so wrapped up in our own inner worlds that we become oblivious to what is really going on around us on the outside.
Jesus Christ, of course, is the ultimate example to which I aspire. I pray for the compassion and patience to understand that all pain is like mine. Perhaps not in degree (in many cases it is greater than mine, not less - whether I can see it or not) or outward appearance, but a hurting heart doesn't heal by being told that it shouldn't hurt. It heals by being heard.
Outwardly, many would wonder how this could have been such a devastating event. Our children emerged unscathed, apart from a seemingly irrational fear of "tipping over" (even five years on) when we take a corner a little fast while driving. Our injuries were trivial. But within our emotional lives the cascade of conseqences was far-reaching - to the point of being almost unbearable at times.
To someone who had suffered a "real" trial, such as the death of a child or spouse, I'm sure my pain at the time must have seemed ridiculous. I could hardly have complained about my puny injuries to someone suffering from chronic illness. And yet, as irrational as it may have seemed from the outside, my soul was in agony.
Apart from the personal growth that can come from suffering, there is something else to be gained from pain. The Apostle Paul wrote:
3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 5 For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also abounds through Christ.
In other words, God provides comfort in our times of suffering that enables and teaches us to comfort others in their suffering.
Unfortunately, in our weakness, we can develop an attitude of no pain but mine. No pain but mine is worthy of sympathy. In our deepest hearts, especially in the midst of a "big" trial, we can look down our noses at the "little" trials of others. No pain but mine is real pain. Without even realising it, we can despise our brothers and sisters for struggling to deal with what may seem to be small issues.
Clearly this incredibly destructive attitude is not what God has in mind when He comforts us in our grief. Certainly those suffering "little"trials need to be sensitive about what they say to those dragging their way through "big" trials... but the reverse is true as well.
There is no place in a true community for the no pain but mine attitude. Believe me, I've been guilty of it - I guess many of us have at some time or other, but we need to recognise where it comes from, and that's certainly not from God. After all, Jesus Christ doesn't turn up His nose in disgust when we cry out to Him - and He suffered more than any other man (or woman, or child).
I know some beautiful people who have suffered the kind of pain that makes me imagine having my heart ripped out of my chest and trampled on. What I love and admire about these people is that they have the love and compassion to see beyond their own pain to the suffering of others - however apparently trivial - and to be genuinely sympathetic, despite their own trials. This is what I aspire to as God softens my hard-heartedness and hard-headedness.
So often, because we only see the surface, we fail to understand how deeply and lastingly "small" things can hurt our brothers and sisters. We can also get so wrapped up in our own inner worlds that we become oblivious to what is really going on around us on the outside.
Jesus Christ, of course, is the ultimate example to which I aspire. I pray for the compassion and patience to understand that all pain is like mine. Perhaps not in degree (in many cases it is greater than mine, not less - whether I can see it or not) or outward appearance, but a hurting heart doesn't heal by being told that it shouldn't hurt. It heals by being heard.
Monday, August 10, 2009
In Sickness And In Health
Recently, while I was browsing through some old photos, I came across some of Angelina that made me cry. They weren't cute or endearing, they were downright painful to see. These were photos of her eczema that I had sent to a friend in the hope that this friend might be able to suggest something we could do for her.
Seeing those photos again was both shocking and encouraging. Shocking because it hit me for the first time just how much our little girl suffered for months on end. Encouraging because I am SOOOO thankful that we are not in that place any more. Now, the eczema covers perhaps 5% of her body, then it was more like 90%.
Anyone who has never had an itchy rash simply can't imagine what it's like. If you haven't experienced it, you can't possibly fathom the agony of itching so intense that you are willing to take almost any pain just to have a few moment's relief from that itch.
Likewise I can't imagine what it is like to have a child with some other chronic illness. Although it would be foolish for me to think that I understand what it would be like to have a child with cancer or Downs syndrome or diabetes, or any number of other conditions, I believe that there is some common ground when you have suffered through broken nights and agonising days with a child limited by pain or disability. I believe that there are lessons we can learn together for the sake of our beloved children.
When we experience (as so many of us do in one way or another) being unable to offer our child relief from their grief or pain or frustration, we naturally want to protect them from any other pain or suffering. We want to wrap them up in every possible comfort to compensate for our powerlessness. We want to shelter them from every external frustration and inconvenience to make up for the fact that there is NOTHING we can do to stop or control that inner pain. Those who have been there will understand exactly what I mean when I say that that NOTHING, that complete and utter helplessness, can become the prison of a parent's worst nightmares.
However, in those days of darkness, I truly believe that in order to become our children's allies and not their enemies we must not protect and shelter them as we so desperately desire. OF COURSE we should always offer the comfort and shelter or our unconditional love, but that same love must still teach them the immovable and unchanging standards of right and wrong.
When a suffering child lashes out physically or verbally at others, our temptation as parents is to make an exception to our own standards - "Michael was just frustrated because no one could understand him, that's why he punched his little sister in the face"; "Annabelle is in a lot of pain, I can't blame her for cursing the nurse who was taking her blood"; "People call Jennifer an idiot all the time, so it's fair enough for her to call her teacher an idiot". I am NOT suggesting that we shouldn't allow our children to express their pain, but if we allow them to express pain in a way that is deliberately and consciously hurtful to others, we are robbing them of a tremendous gift.
"What is she on about?" I can hear you ask! Only this: in hindsight, I can see that the experience of suffering has left our Angelina with a legacy of empathy, hope and patience. Don't get me wrong, we are FAR from the perfect parents, and Angelina is by no means the model child. We DID make too many allowances for her in our moments of weakness. However, our overall goal was to teach her to manage, and grow from, her pain and frustration. While we would be deceiving ourselves to claim 100% success, I can see that these experiences have left a positive mark on her character. We can see now that Angelina doesn't give up straight away when a task gets too hard - some of this is personality, of course - but I think her experience of pushing through pain in the real world (not in a parentally created padded cell) contributed to her spirit of endurance now.
I'd just like to encourage all the parents out there to keep the end goal in mind when your children are in distress. While we don't want our children to suffer unreasonable pain, I think it's worth pausing for a moment before we reach for the panadol or ice cream or remote control - a few of the quick ways of easing our child's suffering or distracting them from sadness, anger or frustration. When we instantly remove mild pain or distract them from minor emotional distress we may be robbing our children of the gift of resilience. Our goal for our children is surely that they find true joy and satisfaction in life, even during unfavourable or downright horrible circumstances that are completely out of their control. We want to encourage that strength of character only born through suffering - the strength of character that will enable them to stand up for truth and right, even when the consequences may be pain or even death. I would rather teach my children to die for what is right than to simply survive at all costs.
If we teach our children, by simply rescuing them from all suffering, that happiness and joy come from the outside, we leave them utterly helpless against the future storms that will rage against them in this increasingly toxic world. On the other hand, if we teach our children to face suffering with courage, dignity and hope, we equip them to be a shining light in the darkness of an increasingly immoral world. We help them build the inner strength that allows them to live this temporary life with integrity, looking forward to an unimaginably beautiful eternal future reality.
Allowing our children to suffer is an incredibly difficult and often discouraging road to walk, but our pledge to our children should be as it is to our husbands and wives - to give them our best in sickness and in health, until death us do part. Whatever your personal journey, I pray that God be with you.
Seeing those photos again was both shocking and encouraging. Shocking because it hit me for the first time just how much our little girl suffered for months on end. Encouraging because I am SOOOO thankful that we are not in that place any more. Now, the eczema covers perhaps 5% of her body, then it was more like 90%.
Anyone who has never had an itchy rash simply can't imagine what it's like. If you haven't experienced it, you can't possibly fathom the agony of itching so intense that you are willing to take almost any pain just to have a few moment's relief from that itch.
Likewise I can't imagine what it is like to have a child with some other chronic illness. Although it would be foolish for me to think that I understand what it would be like to have a child with cancer or Downs syndrome or diabetes, or any number of other conditions, I believe that there is some common ground when you have suffered through broken nights and agonising days with a child limited by pain or disability. I believe that there are lessons we can learn together for the sake of our beloved children.
When we experience (as so many of us do in one way or another) being unable to offer our child relief from their grief or pain or frustration, we naturally want to protect them from any other pain or suffering. We want to wrap them up in every possible comfort to compensate for our powerlessness. We want to shelter them from every external frustration and inconvenience to make up for the fact that there is NOTHING we can do to stop or control that inner pain. Those who have been there will understand exactly what I mean when I say that that NOTHING, that complete and utter helplessness, can become the prison of a parent's worst nightmares.
However, in those days of darkness, I truly believe that in order to become our children's allies and not their enemies we must not protect and shelter them as we so desperately desire. OF COURSE we should always offer the comfort and shelter or our unconditional love, but that same love must still teach them the immovable and unchanging standards of right and wrong.
When a suffering child lashes out physically or verbally at others, our temptation as parents is to make an exception to our own standards - "Michael was just frustrated because no one could understand him, that's why he punched his little sister in the face"; "Annabelle is in a lot of pain, I can't blame her for cursing the nurse who was taking her blood"; "People call Jennifer an idiot all the time, so it's fair enough for her to call her teacher an idiot". I am NOT suggesting that we shouldn't allow our children to express their pain, but if we allow them to express pain in a way that is deliberately and consciously hurtful to others, we are robbing them of a tremendous gift.
"What is she on about?" I can hear you ask! Only this: in hindsight, I can see that the experience of suffering has left our Angelina with a legacy of empathy, hope and patience. Don't get me wrong, we are FAR from the perfect parents, and Angelina is by no means the model child. We DID make too many allowances for her in our moments of weakness. However, our overall goal was to teach her to manage, and grow from, her pain and frustration. While we would be deceiving ourselves to claim 100% success, I can see that these experiences have left a positive mark on her character. We can see now that Angelina doesn't give up straight away when a task gets too hard - some of this is personality, of course - but I think her experience of pushing through pain in the real world (not in a parentally created padded cell) contributed to her spirit of endurance now.
I'd just like to encourage all the parents out there to keep the end goal in mind when your children are in distress. While we don't want our children to suffer unreasonable pain, I think it's worth pausing for a moment before we reach for the panadol or ice cream or remote control - a few of the quick ways of easing our child's suffering or distracting them from sadness, anger or frustration. When we instantly remove mild pain or distract them from minor emotional distress we may be robbing our children of the gift of resilience. Our goal for our children is surely that they find true joy and satisfaction in life, even during unfavourable or downright horrible circumstances that are completely out of their control. We want to encourage that strength of character only born through suffering - the strength of character that will enable them to stand up for truth and right, even when the consequences may be pain or even death. I would rather teach my children to die for what is right than to simply survive at all costs.
If we teach our children, by simply rescuing them from all suffering, that happiness and joy come from the outside, we leave them utterly helpless against the future storms that will rage against them in this increasingly toxic world. On the other hand, if we teach our children to face suffering with courage, dignity and hope, we equip them to be a shining light in the darkness of an increasingly immoral world. We help them build the inner strength that allows them to live this temporary life with integrity, looking forward to an unimaginably beautiful eternal future reality.
Allowing our children to suffer is an incredibly difficult and often discouraging road to walk, but our pledge to our children should be as it is to our husbands and wives - to give them our best in sickness and in health, until death us do part. Whatever your personal journey, I pray that God be with you.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World?
It seems from some of the forums that I've been on recently, there are people out there who think the world is a wonderful place, not the big, bad world at all.
I wonder if the people who believe this would like to be Wonderful World ambassadors to the child soldiers in Uganda? Or perhaps they would like to take their message of positive energy to the mothers with AIDS in Africa who will shortly be leaving their children as orphans? Maybe the children sold by their own parents to sweat shops and brothels would be enlightened by the understanding that they are part of this great planet's amazing diversity? Those who have lost their limbs to land mines might have a better attitude about their lot in life if they truly understood that they are just part of that Great Circle of Life - to eat or be eaten? What about the children in our own backyard who are abused or neglected by their own parents, is it time they learned that it's not a big, bad world at all?
NO!! The world is not a wonderful place! It has the potential to be brilliant under the right leadership. It was created with purpose, but that purpose has not been achieved, because man is fallen. The inherent goodness of man is a lie, proven by seven millenia of descent into increasing chaos. Our current world is the cumulative effect of mankind's dismal FAILURE at goodness.
Only Christ's return will bring the world to what it should be. He will bring hope not only for the living, but for the dead. Know God, and you know that He has planned for everyone. He has not neglected the millions of children who have died not even knowing His name. Like everyone else, they will have their chance.
This is what our family is about. This is where we're headed. We stumble, we fall, we get discouraged, we are HUMAN. But ultimately, we are keeping our eyes on the prize - a perfect eternity for everyone who will choose it.
I wonder if the people who believe this would like to be Wonderful World ambassadors to the child soldiers in Uganda? Or perhaps they would like to take their message of positive energy to the mothers with AIDS in Africa who will shortly be leaving their children as orphans? Maybe the children sold by their own parents to sweat shops and brothels would be enlightened by the understanding that they are part of this great planet's amazing diversity? Those who have lost their limbs to land mines might have a better attitude about their lot in life if they truly understood that they are just part of that Great Circle of Life - to eat or be eaten? What about the children in our own backyard who are abused or neglected by their own parents, is it time they learned that it's not a big, bad world at all?
NO!! The world is not a wonderful place! It has the potential to be brilliant under the right leadership. It was created with purpose, but that purpose has not been achieved, because man is fallen. The inherent goodness of man is a lie, proven by seven millenia of descent into increasing chaos. Our current world is the cumulative effect of mankind's dismal FAILURE at goodness.
Only Christ's return will bring the world to what it should be. He will bring hope not only for the living, but for the dead. Know God, and you know that He has planned for everyone. He has not neglected the millions of children who have died not even knowing His name. Like everyone else, they will have their chance.
This is what our family is about. This is where we're headed. We stumble, we fall, we get discouraged, we are HUMAN. But ultimately, we are keeping our eyes on the prize - a perfect eternity for everyone who will choose it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)