A Believer in Pain

by Joni Eareckson Tada

My chronic pain makes my quadriplegia feel like a walk in the park.

People often ask how I manage my pain. Well, when its fangs sink deep into my hips and back, that’s my signal. I begin deep breathing, slow and steady. And when fiery pain threatens to overtake me—just as the flames threatened to consume Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in that fiery furnace found in the book of Daniel—I have a conversation with it.

I don’t say, “I can’t stand this; it’s killing me,” because words like that are fraught with anxiety. Fear only makes things worse. Instead, I calmly ask Jesus to meet me in my pain, to not let it crush me. And the Son of God never fails to meet me, just as he met those three Hebrews in that hot furnace of fire.

And what does Jesus say to me in that agonizing place of pain?

He comforts me with his own words. He will say something like, “Joni, my Spirit inspired 2 Corinthians 4:8 for a good reason. For although you are ‘hard pressed on every side,’ you will not be crushed.”

Oh, what a promise! Pain may tighten its vice grip, but it cannot crush me. As I cling to God’s promises, my pain pushes me further into Jesus’s heart. There is nothing sweeter than finding my Savior in the middle of my hellish circumstances. It helps deflect the pain and helps me to suffer well. Jesus helps me be in that unhappy place well.

All the years I’ve lived in my wheelchair, I never got delivered from pain. But I met my Deliverer in it. I didn’t get healed, but I found intimate fellowship with the Healer.

Friend, pain does not have to crush you.

As you courageously look at the stern countenance of pain and enter unafraid into its recesses, you will defang it of its terror. You’ll see that the Lord is in your pain, having transfigured it to become a place of union with him. Jesus conquered the insidious ways of pain and because of that, he is your best prescription for pain—whether it’s in your hip, your head, or your heart.

And remember, there is a glorious day coming when it says, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Revelation 21:4). Until then, when pain encroaches, start deep breathing and cling to a Bible promise. There are thousands to hold onto.

Perhaps my favorite is this one uttered by almighty God to you and me, promising, “I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you” (Isaiah 46:4b).

And he will. He promised.

Joni Eareckson Tada

Straining at Your Oars

“He saw the disciples straining at the oars because the wind was against them.”

Mark 6:48

It’s good to know that Jesus sees our labor.  He truly understands all that concerns us, and he understands every issue that concerns us.  Attentive and keenly aware He comes to our boat.  It’s quite common for us to think that he isn’t aware, and we may feel that He’ll pass us by without a word.

Jesus watches over us all the time. 

He knows all about our battles, the fight we have with our flesh, the difficulty we have with the challenging people in our lives. I often struggle to steer my boat. Jesus knows when and why I labor like I do.  And He doesn’t condemn me.

The disciples were straining hard to keep the boat afloat. 

Every oar was being used and every man had his seat.  They must work together.  Some were frantically bailing, and a couple gripped the tiller. A lot of effort was being expended but nothing was working.  The wind continued to push harder against them. 

This is really quite perplexing.  If you remember, they’re simply trying to obey the command of Jesus to cross the sea. They were being obedient, and yet they were starting to sink.

Why do things have to be so difficult?

I’m intrigued by believers who expect sunshine, blue sky, and red roses just because they are doing God’s will.  They don’t seem to think through the issues of conflict and challenge, weakness and humility. That’s not how it’s suppose to work.

“It is necessary to go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God.”

Acts 14:22

Doing the will of God will often mean that there will be a headwind directly at us.
 

The seas will become impossible, and we may even be driven back.  But special comfort comes when we realize we’re being watched.  Jesus is doing constant surveillance on us, and He sees our toil on the oars. And then He comes to us, walking on the water.

Even in our storm, our hearts should trust and rejoice.

“Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age”

Matthew 28:20

Go Lower Yet

footwashing

“Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.”

John 13:14

Some Christians reading this part of scripture, have concluded that foot washing should be part of the Churches customary routine.  Their case is compelling, and they may be right in their interpretation.  There is as much support for this as with other things, and Lord knows we could use the humility by getting on your knees with a basin and towel before a brother. 

It probably would relieve issues between saints. It may even heal Church splits. (Oh my!)

Jesus pronounced that His act of service was to be imitated by everyone who would follow.  He further would assert that His example would be emulated by every believer that followed after Him.  Our service to our brother, or sister is to help them become clean Christians. 

We have this ministry of the basin and towel to remove the dirt and filth that comes from walking in this world.  Of course, we cannot remove sins.  But we can serve as Jesus would and intervene with His power.

Cleansing people that we meet will be a challenge. 

It will call us to strip our lives down to a minimum, and to get lower.  We need to get so low that we’re on the floor.  This requires much grace and discipline.  We must weed out every pretense and pride–especially the kind that says, “Look at me serving; am I not wonderful?  I am a true disciple now.”  We are to shake off thoughts like that. 

We are to love others, and perhaps be honestly brutal on ourselves. (Not in a morbid way, just less of ‘yourself.’)

While in my first year of Bible college, I developed a bitter dislike for a classmate.  He had been a lead guitarist; he was handsome and popular, and he oozed pride from every pore (at least I could see it).  I actually took it on myself to be God’s hand in humbling him.  I became antagonistic and scorned him every chance I could.

Within days, my prayer life shut down and the heavens became brass.  One day I was praying and the Holy Spirit graciously zapped me.  I became aware of my sin toward my brother, and I repented. There was a real definite leading, to find a basin and a towel, and then to wash his feet.

God reconciled us, as I knelt at his feet in that dorm room.  From that point on we became very good friends.

We must go lower still.   Water always finds the lowest point, were it pools and gathers into the place of healing others. Perhaps the Holy Spirit will not lead us ‘deeper’ until we start practicing true humility.

When we lower ourselves even deeper we find His presence waiting for us.  But we must cleanse our own hands first, and His blood must work its ministry on me. It’s then I can proceed to clean the filth off of their feet.  If I am not clean myself I will only perpetuate the dirt on to my brother with my dirty hands.

We must scrub our way into the heart of our sister or brother with a basin, some soap and a towel. 

The challenge for us will be a super-challenge.  Christlikeness will always demand this humble grace.  When we think about being like Jesus we must make sure we are following the Jesus in the Bible.  The Jesus who washed dirty feet as a slave.

But let’s not have any foolish nonsense of a discipleship that doesn’t kneel before our brothers in humility.

 

Jesus Wept

When I was a kid I learned no one wanted to hear me cry.

When I was little, I had a temper like a small hurricane. I didn’t like to be teased and would become angry and cry if anyone teased me. I was always told, “Go to your room and cry. No one wants to hear you crying.” So I did.

But my temper tantrum just didn’t end there.

You see, the way our house was designed, my bedroom was, I think, supposed to be a family room. It had two doors opposite one another so that it functioned as a hallway between the dining room and the back hallway where the bathroom and other bedrooms were. When I was sent to my room, I would run into the room and slam one of these two doors.

Because of some principle of physics that I don’t even remotely understand, the door would not completely close and the slamming would cause the other door to fly open and hit the closet. So then I would run over and slam that door, with the same result, until my mom yelled, “Quit slamming those G** damned doors!”

The belief that no one wanted to hear me cry or witness my temper tantrums stuck with me for a long time. The way I always interpreted that statement was that no one cares how I feel. When bad things happened to me later in life, I told no one because I didn’t think they would care. When I was the most depressed, I kept it a secret because I was ashamed of feeling so bad and didn’t want to waste anyone’s time.

It turns out that many of the things we learn as kids just aren’t true.

This is one of those things. Okay, so maybe there are people who don’t care. A lot of them. But there are also people who do care. People, like me, who when they ask “How are you?” they really want to know, even if how you are is horrible. The world is full of loving, compassionate people who have struggled just like you and me, and want to help us find a way through the temper tantrum of the day.

And even if you can’t find anyone in your life who cares, Jesus cares.

John 11:35 records that “Jesus wept.” Why was He weeping? Not because Lazarus was dead, for He knew death was not the end of Lazarus. Jesus wept out of compassion for those who mourned the death of Lazarus.

In 1 Peter 5:7, the apostle wrote, “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” He really does, you know. And so do His followers, though sometimes they don’t know how to show it.