Last year I had a debilitating nerve pain that overturned my daily life. From the tip of my finger to my neck, on one side, was an agonizing pain unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Doctors, specialists, and all the drugs, gimmicks, and aromatherapies in the world could not ease the pain. In the middle of the night, when the pain was the worst, I found myself asking questions, wondering, hoping, and praying in new ways. This pain was wretched, but it found a way to get to the heart of me.
C.S. Lewis, who wrote beautiful children’s stories, was masterful in his other writings on pain and prayer. He wrote, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” While we wish it was not so, and while I sincerely hope to avoid pain, the truth is that grief in all forms have a way of opening our lives to new kinds of attentiveness. Through the sorrow or pain our ability to be aware grows, but it can be a long journey and one that every part of us would rather avoid.
When we go through painful times we respond in different ways at different times. The Four Stages of Distress help us here. First, we may be shocked or confused. Secondly, we may feel bad but might not be ready to feel better. Thirdly, we may feel bad and want to feel better, and fourthly, we may feel better and we search for solutions. Pain takes us on a journey. Along the way we meet others who share in our story and help us find solace in our pain. These people are a gift.
In this season of COVID-19 isolation, pain is an ever present reality for our community. The distress or pain we experience may take us all over the map. As a pastor I’ve spoken to many people in our community who are each experiencing their pain, and discovering the work that pain can do in their own hearts. While some, in their sadness, are retreating or covering their sorrow, many are finding new ways to respond. As I speak with others, I hear that many are re-engaging in practices that nurture their soul. People who did not pray before, are exploring new ways to pray. People who did not go for walks before, are out with their dog exploring crisp evening air. Still others are discovering books, phone calls, and spirit shaping activities that are giving them life and holding them together in times of suffering.
For thousands of years people have discovered ways that help them listen to God, ourselves, and each other. The Spiritual Disciplines are time-tested practices that help us pay attention. From fasting, to hospitality, and from gratitude to simplicity, there are dozens of spiritual disciplines that help us step through seasons of distress with intentionality. If you want to explore more, I recommend the Spiritual Disciplines Handbook by Adele Calhoun for wise and accessible practices that have helped me along the way.
My own journey of pain has often brought me to a place of prayer, and prayer then often leads into community. We need others and others need us. Pain is not easily carried alone and as hard as it might be to ask for help, there are others ready and able to help. Today I look back on my season of pain and can see the dozens of people who cared for me, had patience with me, and helped me find solutions when I could not see through the haze of my own suffering. My hope is that no one in Chestermere will suffer in pain alone, and that the problem of pain would in fact be the doorway to community, hope, and joy once more.
