Purposeful Pain

Pain (difficulty, struggle, or hardship) is an inescapable part of the human experience. It is the great equalizer among people. It touches both rich and poor alike. Pain crosses borders and spans both time and history.

The question before us is never if pain will come, but rather when pain does come, how will we respond? Or as I began to ask myself this past year, will my pain have purpose?

I cannot write about pain without first establishing that some of the pain we experience in life is completely self-induced. We reap what we sow; there are consequences to our actions. On the contrary, other pain we experience is completely out of our control, at times even brought on by the actions and choices of others. Regardless of whether we have control over causing the struggle, we must remember that we always have control over our response to the struggle. We can choose to give our pain purpose. I feel more resolute regarding this point than ever before. I refuse to let my pain be meaningless. I refuse to waste my struggle. If I must at times endure difficulty, then I will fight through, and I will walk out on the other side victorious, taking with me every possible ounce of good I could salvage from the darkness.

 

I view purposeful pain through two primary lenses:

Helping Others

 

"He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” -1 Corinthians

“Close your eyes and pull this cord if you need anything.”
The technician’s voice slowly disappeared as my body was pulled into the MRI scanner. One question remained, “How did I even get here?” Only a few months prior, I felt invincible. I spent my days full of energy, running, biking, and kickboxing. Yet, that all seemed a distant memory as I shuffled slowly down the hospital corridor. My legs trembled beneath me as I reached out to the wall for support. That initial scan in early 2013 would serve as the launching point for an entire year of medical testing, unexplained symptoms, and physical pain.

It was and continues to be the greatest personal struggle I have ever faced.  I wish I were writing from the other side of this struggle. I wish I could share a story of resolution, health, and strength. I have great hope that someday very soon, I will. But today, I share a different story. It is a story of weakness and pain. It is also a story of profound and lasting joy. I share something deeply personal because I know that every person reading this blog has suffered, is suffering, or will suffer at some point.

As humans, we have a tendency to hide weakness. We are not quick to share stories of personal struggle, heartache, and pain. We often spend our time trying to carefully construct how others perceive us and then spend even more time trying to manage that perception. We falsely assume that in order to find love, connection, and a sense of belonging, we must offer only the very best of who we are; an edited version of ourselves.

True connection comes through vulnerability. People connect to what is honest and real. Author and speaker Brene Brown proposed that in order for real connection to happen, we must allow ourselves to truly be seen. We must have the courage to be imperfect. Vulnerability, therefore, requires a certain level of self-acceptance. It requires us to embrace our entire story, not just certain chapters. It challenges us to believe that we are worthy of love and connection simply as we are, not as we would like to be.

Admittedly, if I alone wrote the story of my life, my pen would never write a chapter where I battle for my health. My lead character would be strong and independent, not weak and dependent on others. However, I am learning to love my story in its entirety. I was uniquely created by a loving God who designed this life with me in mind. My life is beautiful and I wouldn’t want anyone else’s. As I learn to fully embrace my life, I continue to find the strength to be weak. I find the strength to allow others to enter into the beautiful chaos that is this season of my life. I share my story openly, with the hope that people will learn from my struggle as I have learned from the struggles of others. Finally, grounded in the belief that pain can be isolating, I share my story with the hope that others will feel less alone in their own fight.  

Every day brave men and women share their personal battles with cancer and in doing so, encourage others to go in for a prostate exam, colonoscopy, or mammogram. Think of  the lives that have been saved through the simple act of sharing a personal story. Men and women courageously share their personal battles with eating disorders, attempted suicides, and substance abuse to help others find victory in similar struggles. Friends, colleagues, and neighbors confide in each other and find comfort in shared experiences. Imagine the unique and knowing bond between two women who have both faced the heartache of miscarriage. Imagine the shared understanding between two men who are both looking for work after losing their respective jobs.

We bring purpose to our pain by sharing it. We bring purpose to our pain by allowing others to benefit from our experiences. If we must suffer, let us at least use that suffering to ease the suffering of others. Let us use our pain to bring hope and comfort.

 Personal Growth

“More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame…” - Romans

Enduring a difficult struggle is not an automatic impetus for personal growth. Too often we assume that when we endure a great struggle (a messy break-up, an illness, financial difficulty, or personal loss) we naturally arrive on the other side of our situation stronger. However, I would argue that we can also arrive on the other side of our situation bitter, cynical, fearful and more self-involved. My father has always countered the old adage “With age comes wisdom” by saying, “With age can come wisdom, but that is an active choice, not a guarantee.” Just as you do not automatically grow wiser with each passing year, you do not automatically grow stronger with each passing struggle. Growth requires intention. 

Adversity is a reliable mirror. It often reveals our true character. After all, when life is good, even fair, most of us are able to summon strength, offer love, consider the needs of others, exhibit patience, and remain hopeful. Yet, when life circumstances change and our daily load feels a little heavier, we often see our true propensity towards love, patience, strength, and hope.

During moments of prayer and reflection this past year, significant character deficiencies were revealed in my heart. I can imagine that some of my prayers were the spiritual equivalent of a 5-year-old crying about receiving vanilla ice cream instead of chocolate ice cream with their birthday cake. Yes God, I know you have given me a roof over my head, loving family and friends, a great job, and the gift of your Son, but I want perfect health and I want it NOW!  Too bad Psalms has already been published. What a beautiful contribution my prayers would have been...

 

I obviously exaggerate for the purpose of illustration, but the point still stands. At times throughout my struggle, I came face to face with the true state of my character and was greatly disappointed with what I found. In that sense, I have learned to rejoice in my pain; not for the pain itself of course, but for the character this pain is producing in my life.

 “What do you want to be when you grow up?” This question, first posed to us as children, follows us throughout our adolescence, becoming increasingly urgent with each passing year. My parents always seemed to change the conversation by changing a single word, “Who do you want to be when you grow up?” They understood that if I figured out the who, I could be successful at almost any what.

It is a question I still ask myself today. Who do I want to be? What do I want to be true of me? What kind of woman, daughter, sister, friend, and someday wife and mother do I want to be? Pain will surely find me again, and even worse, pain will find those that I love. What will my response be in those moments? Who will I be?

"She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.”-Proverbs 31

I want to be a woman marked by joy.  True joy, not a volatile joy which comes and goes like a wave of the sea, rising and falling in line with my emotions and life circumstances. I want a joy which cannot be broken, a joy rooted in Jesus. I want to look ahead to life’s uncertainties and laugh, because my foundation is secure and my joy is already complete.

 "Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life.” – Proverbs 31

I want to be a woman who brings good to those around her. I want to be a pillar of comfort, peace, and rest for the people in my life; a woman who will point others to truth, hope, and faith.  I want to be quick with a smile and a comforting word.

“She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy” –Proverbs 31

I want to be a woman who considers the needs of others before her own. A woman who looks beyond her own life to the lives of others and responds with compassion and mercy.

 

Well that's all very nice, isn't it? Can I get a collective awwww? What wonderful things to want. However, the harsh reality is that without struggle and pain, very few of us would become the person we truly want to be. How do you develop perserverance without going through a situation in which you must persevere? How do you develop patience without being forced to wait? How do you learn to forgive without first being offended? How do you learn the importance of honesty without seeing the painful impact of betrayal?

 

We bring purpose to our pain by allowing it to produce within us character and growth.

 

Conclusion: A Little Perspective

Perspective is often key to enduring struggle. We may be frustrated with a dent in our car, while others are struggling to find food today. We may grow impatient for a health diagnosis, while others die without health care. We may struggle to finish college, while others enter adulthood completely illiterate. The reality is, people would have to look pretty long and hard in my life to find even the smallest reason to feel sorry for me. I imagine the same is true for you. Every time I am even remotely tempted towards self-pity, I think of an incredible man I have never met before. He has brought more purpose to his pain than I could ever dream of.

A few years ago I came across the story of Nick Vujicic. Nick has tetra-amelia syndrome, a very rare congenital disorder characterized by the absence of all four limbs. Nick has no arms and no legs. Despite his very obvious physical disability, Nick graduated from college with a double major in accountancy and financial planning. He learned to golf, swim, and eventually married and became a father. He now travels the world as a motivational speaker, sharing his story of hope, life, and faith in Jesus. He shares openly about his early struggles with depression and suicide. He makes no claims that his life is easy.

Five minutes into Nick’s story I became less captivated by his lack of limbs and more captivated by his happiness and passion for life, God, and others. He is described by those around him as full of joy and zeal. Nick brings purpose to his pain by sharing it with others. He brings purpose to his pain by using it as a catalyst for personal growth. He lives a life grounded in true joy. Nick cannot control his struggle. But he has taken control of his response.

By the grace of God, we will all learn to bring such great purpose to our pain.