The Whole Pain Thing

Not long ago I threw out my back. I was hunched over, halfway through replacing the brakes on the front axle of my car, when my back suddenly decided it had enough—it was quitting time. The searing pain was excruciating. It felt as if a hot steel blade was stabbing me over and over just to the right of my tailbone. In an instant my mind focused directly on one thing: trying to stand upright while not passing out from intense pain. It took several moments of grunting and grimacing (and swearing) to finally stand upright. At that moment I knew I wasn’t going to just walk this one off. It was all I could do just to lean against the car, my head spinning, hyperventilating as I gripped my back and wishing I had never started in on the brakes.

After a few minutes of tantrum I braced myself on the fender and surveyed what lay ahead of me in the next half-hour. The brake caliper was dangling from the axle while various other parts and tools were spread all over the ground. If I were successful at putting it all back together through the severe throbbing, I would then have to hoist the tire back in place and lower the car back down to ground with the jack. In order for me to complete the chore, it meant having to be in serious pain for the duration. The outlook was pretty bleak. But since my condition would only worsen as the minutes passed, I decided to force myself back into the bent over position and finish the job. There was no quitting now. I had to complete the task if the car was going to be of any further use.

Needless to say I made it through that morning and after a few days hobbled on crutches I was back to normal. But through it I learned something about pain.

When confronted with great physical pain we have no choice but to meet it head on. There is no sweeping it under the rug and pretending it does not exist. We cannot simply look the other way and ignore it until it goes away. We must deal with it.

Emotional pain, on the other hand, can be disguised and made to look like something different­. The danger intrinsic in emotional pain is our ability to set it aside or deny that it exists at all. This approach is very problematic to the healing processes.

I am not a masochist. I do not revel in pain of any kind—physical or emotional. But one thing is for certain—pain changes us. It reaches into the fiber of our soul and rearranges our thinking. It can make us more embittered and apathetic, or it can make us more grateful and resolute. It can stop us or motivate us. But rarely do we remain the same person through pain.

For this reason I believe God can, and sometimes will, direct our path into painful circumstances. I hate the thought of that, I really do.

Why would God seemingly direct us down certain pain-filled roads toward destitution, loneliness, and despair? The answer is simple: Because by his wisdom he knows we would not willingly choose those dimly lit roads if given other, more security-filled options. Strangely enough, it is down those very dark avenues that we can and will find the things of God.