There’s been a death in my family. A young man just 24 years old passed a week ago. He was the only child of my aunt and uncle, and they are rightfully devastated. The whole thing is pain on steroids–as awful as it gets. Shock and grief is saturating our family.
We’re all asking why.
A young man who’s just learning how to live is gone. He was in the springtime of his life. His faith in Jesus was just beginning, and he was starting to sort things out, just like we all do. He is gone, but we’ll meet him again.
“Who gathered this flower?’ The gardener answered, ‘The Master.’ And his fellow servant held his peace.”
I wonder if the shock will ever wear off. I suppose it will, but it will come little by little. Jesus must have time to heal and hold in the meantime. He promised us.
Grief on this level defies words of human comfort and consolation. I am frustrated to counsel pain on this level. I’m ashamed when I do. I keep my mouth shut and that’s not easy for me.
There’s terrible guilt, anger and isolation.
The Holy Spirit is strongly emphasizing prayer now. I realize that only He can heal, guiding their suffering and healing to an outcome they can’t see. I know, I am certain that Jesus will come and touch his parents, but perhaps our intercession is what it will take to make this happen.
We must stand against Satan and push him away.
In the olden days, medicine was dispensed in powder form, not pills. The pharmacist would measure out a powder to give to the sick. In a sense, this is what God does. He carefully gives what is needed and not a grain more than necessary. I believe this.
Please don’t condemn yourself for speaking trite and inadequate words. You must rest in God’s work now, and realize that only He can heal and comfort pain and anger on this level. Job’s friends were at their best when they said nothing.
Sometimes all you can do is pray fervently. And that is enough.
“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
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.
“Share each other’s burdens, and in this way obey the law of Christ.”
Galatians 6:2, NLT
By Lisa Schubert, Guest Author
Samantha issued commands to the person on the other end of the line. When she hung up, the rant continued against our church, our staff, the weather, and this meal that would serve as her Thanksgiving dinner. I had to let her go mid-rant, but not before reminding her that I would keep her in my prayers.
Samantha approached me outside the church on Thanksgiving morning with her hair disheveled and her coat covered with dirt smudges and raindrops. She demanded to borrow my cell phone to find if the Thanksgiving dinner she had requested from a charitable organization would be ready for pick-up in an hour. I was in a hurry. I needed to be inside preparing to lead worship. I begrudgingly let her borrow my phone, but I insisted on dialing the number myself and standing with her in the gentle rain.
My encounters with Samantha have continued over the past few months. She’s almost always confused, angry, and paranoid. She tells stories about growing up with another member of our staff, who never met her until recently. It’s hard to know how to respond to Samantha.
A friend called me recently to ask if our church had any resources for helping congregations to welcome those who struggle with mental illness. I pointed her in a few directions, including the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) at www.nami.org. Even as I offered her the information, I felt uneasy. Connecting with those who have mental illnesses is a complex, difficult journey.
It was raining again on Monday when I saw Samantha. She was sitting in the front lobby of the church. She shouted at me as I walked out the door, “Be careful out there! Two guys tried to kidnap me, and I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.” Unwilling to believe her, I replied, “Samantha, I’m sorry you had a rough morning. I’ll be thinking of you. Hope your day gets better.” I continued out the church doors and opened my umbrella.
I later discovered that Samantha was mugged that morning. Thankfully, the police believed her while I had blown her off. They arrested the alleged perpetrators that afternoon.
I’m embarrassed by my lack of gentleness and compassion toward Samantha, and I know I’m not alone. I wonder what it means for the Church to embrace, accept and listen to those who have mental illnesses. I wonder how church leaders like myself can grow and help others to deepen their care for people like Samantha.
There are no simple answers, but I think the answer starts in a simple place:
We stand with them in the rain.
Lisa Schubert is Associate Pastor of Discipleship and Formation of North United Methodist Church, Indianapolis.
“So then, since we have a great High Priest who has entered heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to what we believe. This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same testings we do, yet he did not sin. So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.“
Hebrews 4:14-16
These two verses out of Hebrews 4 establish three things.
We are “criminals” and in need of representation.
Jesus Christ stands ready, and able to help us before both this world and to the one to come.
Jesus still has a present day ministry as our priest and provider.
And he is busy! He did not ascend to heaven to wait around for his second coming. He is active, and we are being acted upon.
Saving you, and watching over you, is the present work of heaven.
But there is more, let’s look at the story of Paul’s voyage to Rome in Acts 27. He is a prisoner being escorted to stand before Caesar. He has a guard who is watching him as he travels by ship across much of the Mediterranean.
Because of the time of the year, the trip will be hard. The weather is very iffy, and awful storms could pummel a ship at times. No matter what, it will be a hard journey. Sometimes that happens.
“When a light wind began blowing from the south, the sailors thought they could make it. So they pulled up anchor and sailed close to the shore of Crete. 14 But the weather changed abruptly, and a wind of typhoon strength (called a “northeaster”) burst across the island and blew us out to sea. 15 The sailors couldn’t turn the ship into the wind, so they gave up and let it run before the gale.”
16 “We sailed along the sheltered side of a small island named Cauda, where with great difficulty we hoisted aboard the lifeboat being towed behind us. 17 Then the sailors bound ropes around the hull of the ship to strengthen it. They were afraid of being driven across to the sandbars of Syrtis off the African coast, so they lowered the sea anchor to slow the ship and were driven before the wind.”
Acts 27:13-17, NLT
The storm is probably a once in a lifetime experience. It seems everyone is problem-solving trying to keep the ship from “breaking up.” They are fighting for their lives. After tossing over the cargo, and the ships tackle, they would have cut down the mast. Leaving it up would only weaken the ship’s hull, which reduces their chances.
They then did something called “frapping.”
It involved wrapping ropes or cables around the hull in a criss-cross manner. This outside strengthening would have been “levered” to increase tightness. It could be an effective way of surviving the unsurvivable.
There is a specific Greek word to describe this frapping. It is used in only one other place in the entire Bible. In Hebrews 4:16 we read–
“So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy,and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.“
Can you see the connection? In these desperate times when the storm is ripping up everything, attempting to destroy us– our families, our friends and neighbors. Just survival seems a long stretch. It is then that Jesus fraps (or wraps) us tightly.
But many of us go through typhoons with the cables coiled up on deck. We seem oblivious and ignorant of its availability. We really don’t see the “present tense’ ministry of Jesus standing to intercede. We merit nothing– but He promises us everything. We are on the knife’s edge of falling apart, but perhaps it’s our own fault?
I believe this message has not come to you by accident. You are either in the storm, or know someone who is there. The name of this post is, “Jesus Actively Helps Me.” I hope you will see it, you will need it.
“Jesus Christ carries on intercession for us in heaven; the Holy Ghost carries on intercession in us on earth; and we the saints have to carry on intercession for all men.”
Broken Believers 