“When there's pain, it
screams.” At best, it was a summary statement. Something
to help make a point of a strategic discussion we were having about
our ministry. Yet, I paused to ponder it. “When there's
pain, it screams.” Now... to be honest, I probably didn't
remember it correctly word for word. But it resonated deep within my
soul.
In our culture it is easy to overlook
deep pain. We see it clearly in the response to the
protests. Rather than ask, “why are they so upset that they would devote time, energy, and emotion to this?” We say, "stop protesting" and "do
it our way". When people are grieving, we can overlook their
grief and give sharp rebuke for how they are missing things. We
misdiagnose, misapply, and, I think if we are honest with ourselves,
we are hasty to fix the “problems” so we don't have to deal with them anymore.
That's not to say that we should ignore
sin or bad behaviors, but rather, recognize that when there is
screaming, it's because there is often legitimate pain. And when
there is legitimate pain, the initial need is not a correction in
behavior. The need is to walk alongside, to empathize, and then fix
our eyes on the God who is big enough to heal.
There are three things from the
scriptures that have helped me as I think through dealing with pain:
1. It's ok to not have immediate
“progress” → This is not
to say that we shouldn't move through pain to deeper faith. Rather,
it's ok if it's not on our timetable. Psalm 88 ends like this, “You
have caused my beloved and my friend to shun me; my companions have
become darkness.” Why would the psalmist end there? Why isn't
there any resolution? It just ends hopelessly.
I
think it's because the psalmist understands that it's ok to be in a
season of struggle, doubt, and sadness. It's not an ending of
faithlessness, rather one that says, “I know that the Lord is with
me even when I feel like all hope is lost.” The fact that's a song
meant for praise and worship in the temple says so, because it's a
communion with the Lord.
2. Know that Jesus cares about our
circumstances → In Luke 8, we
see Jesus heal a woman who was bleeding for 12 years. The
implications are overwhelming. She's an outcast, would be outside
the temple, and would have numerous societal disadvantages. Jesus allows
her to come up from behind, hidden, for her to have healing. While
Jesus exposes her later (to restore her hope further, by having true
faith in Christ, not just her healing), He knows that this woman had
little to no contact for 12 years, and the way He heals her is to let
her touch Him. He begins to restore her circumstances, healing her,
letting her touch Him, and even concealing her until the time was
right. He cared not just about her salvation, but also her deeply
traumatic circumstances.
3. Know that contentment comes by
coming to God and seeing His Glory → The
story of Job is a case study in misunderstanding suffering. Job
loses everything and his friends blame his sin for the calamity that
has befallen him. When God shows up (in
chapter 38!), He doesn't rebuke Job's friends (yet), nor does He
apologize for what has happened to him. He reminds Job of who HE is.
Where
were you when I lad the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you
have understanding. Who determined its measurements – surely you
know! Or who stretched the line upon it? (Job
38:4-5)
Job's
response to the Lord is shocking. While his pain hadn't subsided, he
finds an odd contentment in 42:6, saying he repents in dust and
ashes. The note about his repentance is that it could also mean he
is comforted. What comfort? It's the comfort of knowing more of the
fullness of God, that He is all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-good.
And that even in the midst of the hardest storms, He is in control.
Pain
is hard. Sometimes it feels uncontrollable. And that's ok. Be
honest about your pain. And, if you're listening to someone in pain,
don't judge. Ask. Understand. Care. Then look to Jesus, the one
who went through the deepest pain. In Him, you will find the one who
can perfectly understand, and in Him, you will find the God who will
rock you to the core, leaving you comforted in the midst of any pain.