Finding Power and Purpose in Your Private Pain - Part 2
Some people bleed publicly and profusely, while others suffer in silence. Some people are able to turn their pain into a platform of public service, while others find their pain to be a prison of isolation. There are celebrities of suffering, and there are those who suffer in obscurity. It is for the latter group that I write these words. Earlier, I posted part 1, and I hope that you will go back and read that if you haven’t already.
“If this is how the rest of my life will be, what is the point in even trying anymore?” That is a question I was asked not too long ago. It hits at the heart of the issue. Many people are locked in a prison of pain from which there seems to be no escape. And, if there is no escape, then it is hard to see how there could be any purpose in fighting.
“But, but…Heaven!” says someone. Yes, I know. I believe in a final healing one day. I believe it with all of my heart. But, that alone isn’t enough for today. I believe we need something more “in the moment” than that.
Why should someone continue to fight when they are facing a terminal illness? What possible purpose could there be when their body is broken beyond repair? Is there any good that can come from their situation now? If no one (figuratively speaking) even knows their battle, is it even important?
If you are one of those people, then my answer is most definitely yes. It is still worth it, even if.
Before I provide my reasons for saying this, I want you to know that I am drawing the majority of them from the well of my Christian faith. For some, this will be a turn-off. For others, I won’t say things that represent “your” Christian faith. To both groups, please be gracious. I’m trying to offer hope and strength to someone who may desperately need some.
The first thing I would say is that there is a limit to our own strength. When we are well, this limit is hidden, but there are clues. Many large packages from the big box stores have an illustration recommending “team lift.” Some things are too heavy for one person to carry alone. Nothing is more demoralizing than coming face to face with our own limitations.
For people who struggle with chronic conditions and private pain, this reality is hard to hide from. It helps when there is someone in your life to help you, but many people no longer have such a person. The nature of life is such that the longer a situation continues, the fewer people around us are able to devote time and energy to help. This is, for me, where my faith comes into play. I believe that God is able to provide strength to our depleted resources. When things are about to fall apart, He offers help to hold things together. I encourage you, whatever your current beliefs, to ask for strength. I know He is listening.
The next thing I would tell you is that there is value in pursuing virtue in the face of struggle. When we push back against despair, we inject some good into this world. It is possible, as the Apostle Paul said, to have a broken body, but a healthy and renewed spirit/soul. We are more than just a body. Solomon said that a broken spirit dries out the bones. There is a direct link between the condition of the spirit and the condition of the body. This is especially true when our bodies are already in a weakened condition.
But why bother if it won’t “fix” me? I would say two things. First, your life has value, by virtue of its existence. Your battle isn’t meaningless unless you choose to make it so. When you fight, in spite of the pain, you are giving light and voice to the truth that human life matters. That it is something of great value even if the vessel that contains it is no longer valued.
Second, I believe that life does not end here. Our time in this body isn’t the whole story. I know some won’t buy that, but I do, and it gives me a context for the struggle. As a believer in Jesus, I have hope in life that continues beyond what we now know. I also believe that what I do in this life has bearing on what comes next. I believe I will step out of this chapter, and into the next one bringing with me the soul/spirit that I built up here. I believe I’ll have a body made new, but not a new soul. The battle some of you are facing, and the pain you fight with have the capacity to do a tremendous amount of soul-building.
If you are a believer, then you also have the promise that when that next chapter begins, the “reputation points” you earned in this life will be so amazing that your struggle will be a distant memory. This is hope. This gives a purpose to continue fighting.
I know you are tired. I imagine it would be easy to give up. I wouldn’t judge you if you did. I haven’t walked in your shoes. I’m just trying to give you a few thoughts on how you can reframe your pain and give it a sense of purpose. It’s not meaningless, and you’re not forgotten. God sees you. He loves you. I know you’re there. I love you. Please don’t give up. You inspire me.
