“They came, bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men.4 And when they could not get near him because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him, and when they had made an opening, they let down the bed on which the paralytic lay.”
Mark 2:3-4
In this Gospel story recorded in Mark 2:1-12 we read of the four friends who brought the paralyzed man to Jesus. What a privilege it is to carry those we love to our Lord for His healing presence to surround them.
Their simple faith is what we are called to. “Paralyzed” people are waiting for us to only act. If God gives us eyes to see, we will see them.
I was inspired to write this simple poem as I thought about this man and his friends. I hope it blesses you.
Let Me Carry You
You lie alone broken and weak Unsure if you will make it through Seeing a future dark and bleak To Jesus let me carry you
Your daily troubles set in stone Seem heavy with unchanging hue And though you think you’re all alone To Jesus, I will carry you
You struggle to remember love Ev’ry feeling painfully blue I will bring God’s grace from above To Jesus let me carry you
How do you handle pain as a believer? What do you do when you want to curl up in a ball and want to die? Understand that pain isn’t in God’s original plan. We who are hurt have got to be very much aware of this.
There are many different kinds of pain: post-surgical, chronic, and self-inflicted. The pain of separation or divorce or misguided children can get pretty destructive. There’s the pain of misunderstanding or something inflicted by a bad relationship with someone.
There are far too many possibilities and far too much hurt to go around.
At times you can’t even imagine how you’re going to handle another day. Sometimes the doctors have the arrogance to tell you that you need to get used to it because it’s never going to get better. So now you must sort things out–and apart from a miracle, it’s only going to get worse. I understand this. Truly.
Here are ten thoughts that come to my mind. They’re not in any order. (Maybe they should be? IDK.)
One
Treat false humility as a worse disease than you’re facing physically. You’ll be very tempted to milk your pain for all its worth. You’ll try to take advantage of others, and you’ll put yourself in the best possible light. But pain and ego were never meant to mix–especially as a disciple of Jesus. Renounce them now. Turn from it constantly.
Two
Never find fault with God. He’s not to blame whatever the evil one tells you. Our Father loves you deeply, and He will carry you all the way through this. Satan always tells lies. You must take a stand against him. Put on your armor! Super-glue Ephesians 6:19-18 into your thought life–and never let go!
Three
You can never lose track of a very real eternity. My special verse is Revelation 21:4, “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.” Please keep this front and center. It’ll help a lot!
Four
You’ll start to learn to see others differently. There’ll always be another who has it worse. Think about them, and all that they must deal with. It helps a lot. Also, you’ll discover that your pain will be like new glasses for a strange source of spiritual astigmatism. You’ll see things far more clearly now.
Five
Your walk will deepen. You’ll learn to be joyful when all you want to do is cry. The littlest things become a cause of great joy. God values your singing more now, especially when you’re singing out of excruciating pain. The Word, and worship music, all seem to be more meaningful. Surround yourself with music (and preaching too), anything that builds you up inside.
Six
You’ll discover the art of weaving your pain into your discipleship. Sleepless nights become diving boards for prayer, reading, and worship. You’ll change and deepen, and that’s always good. Also, be open to new ways of ministry. Look for doors to open up. (They may be different than you think.)
Seven
You’ll discover that there can be solace in medications and treatment. I know that this, but sometimes a handful of Motrin or other pain meds will be a real relief. Also, listen closely to your doctor and therapist. Pray for them, pray they’ll have special wisdom for your situation.
Eight
You start to see that you’ll never be able to do this alone. God is giving you a gift. He will give you insight. You’ll also start to see people less in terms of ‘rank’ and more in the light of what they’ve had to suffer. As you begin to see pain and sorrow as odd friends, they’ll often show you who your true brothers and sisters are.
Nine
You’ll understand the Father’s love in a new way. Like an old-style pharmacist who measured out powder instead of pills, we find God measures out exactly what we need. He never gives you a single grain of medicine more than is necessary. Trust him. All that happens to you has come through nail-pierced hands. He understands pain and He understands you.
Ten
You must learn to laugh again. Little things become a source of real joy. The smallest things will make you laugh. Get a joke book, that may help, especially when you get sour and withdrawn. “A cheerful disposition is good for your health; gloom and doom will leave you bone-tired” (Pro. 17:22, MSG).
(This list is not complete. I apologize, there are many others that really should be added, but maybe this is a start.)
Also–just one more (number 11 maybe?) Be easy on yourself. You’ll find that you’ve much to learn. And that’s okay. Just open up your heart, and look to Jesus.
We must be aware that our pain allows us access to His careful grace. Our trials, properly received, endow us with special abilities.
They’re now our new ‘superpowers.’ 😁
You should learn to embrace your pain and your sorrows, and not many can do this. Our own suffering comes to us at too high of a cost to us. They’re precious and way too valuable to neglect. Squeeze them and extract all that they can give.
Here’s a quote that has always sustained me. It’s really good for me to remember, and it may help you.
“Some Christians are called to endure a disproportionate amount of suffering. Such Christians are a spectacle of grace to the church, like flaming bushes unconsumed, and cause us to ask, like Moses: Why is this bush not burned up?'”
–John Newton
Exodus 3:2-3
A good site is Joni Eareckson Tada. She’s a believer who has suffered a great deal and has a ministry to the afflicted, Joniandfriends.org.
I have another site you might want to checkout: alaskabibleteacher.com.
This post and poem were originally written while I waited in my doctor’s waiting room to talk to her about my pain medication. When I told her I was writing a thankfulness poem titled “Pain and Suffering” she was skeptical, until I told her the perspective from which it was written.
“Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.”
James 1:2-3
Although I would love to live a life in which I experienced no pain or suffering, that is not my lot. (I’ve never actually met anyone who did live a life with absolutely no pain or suffering.) I know that those who find their way here to Broken Believers have often had more than their fair share.
I have finally come to a place in my life where I can find the good in all my pain and suffering – the “silver lining” if you will – in that it has taught me perseverance and compassion.
For that I am very thankful.
I am also thankful for God’s promise that my perseverance will finish its work so that I will be mature and complete. It will happen, I know it! God promised.
Pain and Suffering
I will pray because I care as the pain drags you down Exhausting endless pain
I understand how you feel I’m exhausted just like you
I have no power to eliminate the pain Yours or mine
Will you let compassion blossom from the compost of your pain?
Or will bitterness engulf your soul as pain ravages your body and mind?
Because I care I will pray that we persevere that the pain will be eased
I will remind you this, too, shall pass someday
It might not be until Jesus returns or calls us home
But we’ll make it We’ll persevere and become mature and complete I will pray because I care
Will you pray for me, too?
“God blesses those who patiently endure testing and temptation. Afterward they will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.”
“As they pass through the Valley of Baka, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools.”
Psalm 84:6 (NIV).
“When they walk through the Valley of Weeping, it will become a place of refreshing springs. The autumn rains will clothe it with blessings.”
Psalm 84:6, (NLT).
In Hebrew, the word “baka” means tears.
In Psalm 84, the sons of Korah write their praises of God and note that those whose strength is in the Lord will travel through the Valley of Baka and find His peace there. For some of us that Valley of Tears seems never-ending, but we must remember we are not alone in it.
I wrote this poem to remind myself of that truth. I hope it blesses you as you pass through the valley of tears, too.
My Valley of Tears
My Savior will dry all my tears The Lord God knows all my fears As I trudge onward many years I pass through the Valley of Baka
Great pain and agony oppress I feel heavy weights of duress Praying for dear Jesus to bless I pass through the Valley of Baka
I see that this valley is long I need You to make my faith strong That Lord I might sing a praise song As I pass through the Valley of Baka