Trying to Put Pain in Its Proper Perspective

We just observed another Thanksgiving Day, thinking of numerous things for which to be thankful. But as I mentioned in an earlier post, how many among us could pray with sincerity, “Thank you, Lord, for the pain I’m going through”?

 

For most of us, pain would fall to the very bottom of the list of things for which to be grateful – if on the list at all. In fact, a book by author Philip Yancey is titled, Pain: The Gift Nobody Wants. (Yancey is probably among the minority in being able to be thankful for pain, since a number of his best-selling books focus on that subject.)

 

I’ve been thinking about pain a fair amount lately, since I’ve got a torn meniscus in one of my knees that will require repair work very soon. It’s been reminding me of one of my personal mottos: I wouldn’t mind pain…if it didn’t hurt so much. 

 

Pain’s no stranger to any of us. If not physical suffering, we’ve had to deal with pain in other forms: Divorce, depression, loss of beloved family members and friends, having to watch helplessly as others endure serious illness, unexpectedly losing a job, coping with major expenses that weren’t in the budget. The list could go on.

 

As we go through such circumstances, we might wonder: What’s the point? Is there purpose behind the pain? We can debate to what extent God actually causes pain to occur, but He obviously allows it to come into our lives. Does He have reasons behind the pain we experience?

 

Author and Christian apologist C.S. Lewis wrote in his book, The Problem of Pain, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”

 

What Lewis said is true. When things are going well, when we’re reveling in our successes and good fortune, we have a tendency to feel that we don’t need God. ‘I’ve got this!’ He might be speaking to us, but we’re not paying attention. But in the throes of pain, we often turn to Him. ‘Lord, I don’t think I’ve got this!’

 

The Bible declares that pain is part of our ‘job description’ as followers of Jesus Christ. As the apostle Paul wrote in Philippians 3:10, “I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection,” which sounds great, but then he adds, “and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death.” Wait…what? “Sharing in His sufferings”?

 

Another apostle, Peter, made a similar statement about our journey with Christ: “Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when His glory is revealed” (1 Peter 4:12-13).

 

In his devotional book, My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers writes, “In the history of the Christian church, the tendency has been to avoid being identified with the sufferings of Jesus Christ. People have sought to carry out God’s orders through a short cut of their own. God’s way is always the way of suffering – the way of the ‘long road home.’... We never realize at the time what God is putting us through – we go through it more or less without understanding. Then suddenly we come to a place of enlightenment and realize – ‘God has strengthened me, and I didn’t even know it!’”

 

Studying the Scriptures we find the Lord can – and does – use the pain in our lives in many ways. For instance, circumstances beyond our control reveal need for Him. “It was good for me to be afflicted, so that I might learn your decrees” (Psalm 119:71).

 

Going through various kinds of suffering can be part of God’s process for transforming us into the people He wants us to be. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (James 1:2-4). We find the same idea in Romans 5:3-4, “…And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”

 

Another purpose for pain in our lives can be to cultivate humility, as Paul recognized: “To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’... That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:7-10).

 

Theologian J.I. Packer offered this perspective: “Perhaps He means to strengthen us in patience, good humor, compassion, humility, or meekness by giving us some extra practice in exercising these graces under difficult situations.”

 

I needed an MRI to confirm the cartilage tear in my knee; lying with my leg completely still for 20-25 minutes caused pain more intense than I ever experienced. To shift my focus, I thought about Jesus having endured scourging and then hanging on the cross not for minutes but for hours, nails piercing his hands and feet. My appreciation for what He went through for all who believe in Him was heightened more than I could have imagined.

 

No one likes pain and suffering. But what a privilege it is to know, “To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in His steps” (1 Peter 2:21).

The ‘Gift’ Nobody Would Ever Ask to Receive

Years ago, I reached a conclusion: “Pain wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t hurt so much.” Many people have experienced more pain than me, but I’ve had my share. Recovering from open-heart surgery was the worst, but even severe sore throats and smashed toes are no walk in the park. I’ve encountered enough pain to know it’s not something anyone seeks.

 

However, strange as it may seem, pain might actually be a gift, even though it’s doubtful anyone would put it on their wish list. How can we consider pain a “gift”? For starters, our bodies use pain as a signal that something is wrong. 

Chest pressure – which cardiologists regard as pain – was my first symptom that something was awry with my heart and its supporting arteries. My post-surgery pain served as a consistent reminder not to overdo as I worked through the long recovery process.

 

But it doesn’t take something as serious as heart problems or cancer for pain to take on the unlikely guise of a gift. Imagine stubbing your toe. Immediately pain sensors send signals to your brain alerting you that you’ve made undesirable contact with your living room coffee table. What if you didn’t feel your toe banging the coffee table and you stubbed it again…and again? Your initial bruise might turn into damage of much greater magnitude. 

 

This is a problem some people suffering from diabetes, leprosy, neuropathy, and other maladies face on a daily basis. If nerves become desensitized and can’t give painful notice of injury, the situation can become exacerbated to the point of requiring a trip to the emergency room.

 

Author Philip Yancey has spent much of his writing career exploring the subject of pain and its ramifications. Fearfully and Wonderfully Made and The Gift Nobody Wants are just two of the books he’s written the deal with the topic. Much of his insight came from working with Dr. Paul Brand, who dedicated many years of his medical career to ministering to leprosy patients. 

 

In another of his books, Where Is God When It Hurts?, Yancey writes, “Pain is not God’s great goof. The sensation of pain is a gift – the gift nobody wants. More than anything, pain should be viewed as a communication network. A remarkable network of pain sensors stands guard duty with the singular purpose of keeping me from injury.”

 

Yancey certainly isn’t an advocate for pain, acknowledging it can cause misery whether short-term or long-term, especially for sufferers of diseases like crippling arthritis or terminal cancer. But he notes, “for the majority of us, the pain network performs daily protective service.” Then he quotes the late Dr. Brand who said, “Ninety-nine percent of all the pains the people suffer are short-term pains: correctable situations that call for medication, rest, or a change of a person’s lifestyle.”

 

Where does pain fit within God’s plan for his people? We can look at this from several angles. Jesus Christ was no stranger to pain. He suffered the emotional pain of being misunderstood as well as rejection. He suffered through hunger, thirst and temptation, as Hebrews 2:18 states: “Because He Himself suffered when He was tempted, He is able to help those who are being tempted.”

 

The Lord endured the agony most of us have experienced, the pain of loss. Upon arriving at Bethany after His friend Lazarus had died and had already been in a tomb for four days, John 11:35 tells, “Jesus wept.”

 

Each of the four gospels recount the unimaginable pain and suffering Jesus went through, being tortured during a mock trial before being crucified and becoming the atoning sacrifice for our sins. This fulfilled a prophecy presented in Isaiah 53:7, “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet He did not open His mouth; He was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so He did not open His mouth.”

 

But what about us as Christ’s followers? Can’t God spare us from pain, much as a parent would desire to do for a beloved child? We’re told pain is part of what we might call a believer’s ‘job description.’ As the apostle Paul wrote, “I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection of the dead” (Philippians 3:10-11).

 

Sometimes God allows His people to experience pain as part of His process for transforming them into the individuals He desires for them to be; to shape our character. One of these traits is humility, which Paul referenced when he wrote: 

“To keep me from becoming conceited because of these great revelations, there was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ …That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am we, then I am strong [in Christ]” (2 Corinthians 12:7-10).

 

No, pain is not something we seek. No reasonably minded person asks for it. But in our walk of faith, the Scriptures assure us that when God allows pain in our lives, He has a reason for it. It’s still true “that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28). 

Perhaps in our painful times, short-term or long-term, our question should not be “Why?” but rather, “What?” What is the Lord seeking to teach us, to do in our lives – or through our lives? 

Accepting the Gift Nobody Wants

What was the worst gift you ever received? A gaudy tie for Father’s Day? Or a nifty kitchen appliance when you really were hoping for a romantic gift, like flowers or jewelry? 

A well-intended aunt had a habit of giving some of the most undesirable gifts you could imagine. One Christmas when I was a teenager she gave me several pairs of stretchy red, yellow and white socks, not remotely on my wardrobe wish list.

We enjoy receiving gifts we want. But have you ever thought about pain being a “gift”? That’s the contention of author Philip Yancey and the late Dr. Paul Brand, who collaborated on several books exploring the problem of pain from a spiritual perspective. One of their books is titled, PAIN: The Gift Nobody Wants.

In another of Yancey’s books, Where Is God When It Hurts?, he introduces Dr. Brand, a physician who devoted his life to living and working with leprosy patients in different parts of the world. A great danger these individuals faced, Brand discovered, was suffering or worsening injuries due to an inability to feel pain.

Yancey writes, “Pain is not God’s great goof. The sensation of pain is a gift – the gift that nobody wants. More than anything, pain should be viewed as a communication network. A remarkable network of pain sensors stands guard duty with the singular purpose of keeping me from injury…. For the majority of us, the pain network performs daily protective service. It is effectively designed for surviving life on this sometimes hostile planet.”

He quotes Brand who, drawing from decades of professional experience, determined, “…as a physician I’m sure that less than one percent of pain is in this category we might call out of control. Ninety-nine percent of all pain that people suffer are short-term pains: correctable sensations that call for mediation, rest, or a change in a person’s lifestyle.”

This seems counterintuitive. We recoil at even the thought of pain, seeking to avoid it if possible. Over-the-counter pain medications fly off the shelves at pharmacies and retail stores. Stringent restrictions now govern opiates and other prescription pain medications, seeking to curb epidemic abuse. Many people attempt to avoid or overcome pain by other means, ranging from alcohol and recreational drugs to immersing themselves into various forms of distraction.

But could it be, as Yancey suggests, that “pain is not God’s great goof”? Twelve years ago, while power-walking, I felt unusual chest pressure and soreness in my left arm and wrist. I’d never experienced those sensations before, so when they recurred the next day, I had the good sense to consult my physician. 

A battery of tests determined I not only had several arterial blockages, but also an enlarged aorta which could have taken my life. I had not felt the severe chest pain often depicted on TV and in films, but that pressure was still deemed “pain” by the doctors who diagnosed my problems and performed surgery.

If we’re hammering a nail and hit our thumb instead, pain alerts us so we don’t keep whacking away and exacerbate the hurt. 

One of the problems diabetics often face is that over time, nerve endings become desensitized. As a result, they can suffer bruises or more serious injuries, even aggravate them, without being aware of it because they don’t feel pain to alert them of the damage.

A great example of pain is found in the Old Testament book of Job. In a devastating series of events, Job lost his worldly possessions, his children, and his health. The only thing he didn’t lose was his wife. When she told him to “curse God and die,” Job might have wondered why she was still around.

Job presents a classic discourse on the problem of pain, the subject of countless books, sermons and articles. One important thing to remember is that even in the depths of Job’s misery, the Lord was never absent. As the account of God’s sovereignty and grace concludes, we even see Job’s fortunes reversed.

The apostle Paul suffered from some persistent malady, although we’re not told what it was. He wrote, “I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 2:7-10).

Sometimes, as Paul said, it’s only through weakness – through pain – that we can experience God’s grace most profoundly.

Hard as it may seem, the next time we feel a twinge, an ache, or even a stabbing pain, before rushing for an immediate remedy, maybe we should first thank God for His “gift.” We can also cling to the promise from the Bible’s last book: “He will wipe away ever tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away”  (Revelation 21:4).

‘Dancing’ Despite the Storms

Recently we decided to spruce up our master bathroom, removing old wallpaper, replaced by a fresh coat of paint. Among the new accessories is a picture bearing the motto, “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass…it’s about learning to dance in the rain.”

I can’t think of a better sentiment for coping with everyday life. “Storms” are inevitable, whether they involve health issues, marriage and family challenges, financial difficulties, career conflicts, cars and appliances that break down at inopportune times. The reality is not if we are going to encounter adversity in various forms, but when.

We live in a pain-avoidance society. If you have a twinge, take a Tylenol, an aspirin, or something stronger. Drugs and alcohol are commonly used by people seeking to become oblivious to the storms swirling around them. But all too often, once the Band-aid is removed, or the pain-killer wears off, the problems persist.

No amount of legislation can end them. No amount of money can buy carefree, pain-free living. So if we’re stuck with storms, what can we do? Learn to dance in the rain.

The Bible offers curious advice regarding what it terms “trials” and “tribulations”: “…we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint, because God has poured out his love into our hearts…” (Romans 5:3-5).

In case we overlook that passage, similar thoughts are found in James 1:2-4, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

Rejoice? Consider it “pure joy” when we encounter the trials and tribulations of life? That’s hard to do, without question – unless we embrace the promise from the Scriptures that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). If we truly believe that, then yes, we can learn to dance in the rain!

Beauty in the Scars

People collect all manner of things – coins, stamps, dishes, comic books, trading cards, antique furniture, vintage toys. Something we all collect with the passing of years, like it or not, are scars. My wife and I were talking about this recently, in light of surgeries we’ve undergone – major and minor – that left permanent physical reminders.

I also have scars on my hands from encounters with sharp objects. One was etched in my skin by the edge of a metal door frame while carrying a large box out of a store years ago. The others? I’ve long forgotten how I got those.

We also acquire other kinds of scars over time, although some aren’t outwardly visible. They can be byproducts of extremely difficult work situations, overwhelming financial challenges, painful relationships or other issues. Those problems may have gotten resolved, but their memory remains imbedded in our psyches.

But scars aren’t necessarily bad. Surgical scars, for instance, can be reminders of successful procedures to correct defects or heal diseased organs. Scars of everyday struggles can also be beneficial, prompting us to remember lessons that helped transform us into better people.

That person who used to scrape against you like sandpaper might have been God’s means for smoothing rough edges. On-the-job hardships may have helped you to refine skills – or confirm your need to change careers. Agonies over mishandled finances might have taught you to become a wiser steward of your resources.

The Bible tells us, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (James 1:2-4).

Memories of hard times in the past may remain, but if we have learned from them, shaping us into more mature and complete individuals, the pain – and scars we bear as souvenirs – were worth enduring.

Why Me? ... or, Why Not Me?

Years ago, a prominent rabbi wrote the bestseller, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, attempting to answer the riddle of why seemingly good people, minding their own business, suddenly face misfortune and tragedy. When such things occur, the almost universal question is, “Why me?”

Perhaps a better question should be, “Why not me?” Because if we’re honest, we’ll admit we’re no more or less worthy or deserving than other people of having good or bad happen to us.

I was reminded of this by a friend who has been struggling with cancer for several years. In an update to people praying for her, she wrote, “I have had people say to me, ‘Why you?’ And my response is, ‘Why not me?’ People all over the globe have cancer. I don’t expect God to spare me from having cancer.”

A courageous attitude? No doubt, but one all genuine followers of Christ should embrace. Being members of God’s family does not exempt us from hardships and adversity. After all, Jesus declared, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). The apostle Paul, commenting on his own struggles, said God’s response was, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Looking back over the course of my spiritual journey, I find many of my greatest lessons have come during times when “bad stuff” was happening. In the midst of the pain, God was teaching. Most of all, He was showing me that I can trust Him no matter what.

That’s what my friend Karen meant when she wrote, “The vital truth – the sustaining truth – is I can count on Him to love, strengthen and care for me this day and every day that follows.”