Tag: pain

Wounded and Healed, [Self Awareness]

I have a dear friend, Pastor Jim F. I have known him for over 20 years.  He has a real gift for understanding relationships. It is a knack that he has. Recently he made this observation, it is worth considering.

“The unhealed wounded, wound. The healed wounded, heal.” 

 You might have to read it slow.   But it seems that regardless, pain is the atmosphere we live in.  We can adjust, a certain degree at least.  But this planet remains a dangerous place.  Yet, healing does happen.  And we can than avoid  afflicting our pain on others.  It is possible.

There is little complexity in being wounded.  It is a word, a comment an inconsiderate act.  It happens quick, and its usually is not very sophisticated at all.  Children riding the school bus pierce the hearts of their classmates with frequency.  Husbands, crush their wives, and wives harm their children’s hearts.  We are seldom unscathed by the poison of each other.  We have mastered the art of hurting, and then call it social intelligence.

As Broken Believers we don’t have a monopoly on wholeness.  It may have given us an awareness, and may even have some remorse.  But it’s like we have the flu, we are intensely contagious.  Everyone who draws close, or crosses my path is infected.  I can be the “Typhoid Mary” of the Spirit.  At times, I seem to sicken everyone I meet.

I must be healed. My own wounds from over the years have accumulated.  They have been exacerbated–  made worse over time.  They say that time heals all wounds.  That seems logical, and encouraging even, but it simply isn’t real.  Maybe in an unfocused way, but much of the major woundings become much more painful.  I hurt worse now than ever.

I have has an ulcer on my tongue that won’t heal.  I have had it for the last 18 months.  It is painful, it wakes me up at night.  The sore rubs against my teeth and I start feeling like amputating my tongue to get some relief.  I am always aware of it, or so it seems.  My unhealed ulcerated tongue lowers me into reality.  On my heart there is another kind of ulcer.  Unkind words that have been spoken, hurtful things that have been done.

I guess I think it is both fitting and funny, for a preacher like me to be afflicted in this way.  I am being made aware that I speak words that sometimes harm and hurt.  Much of the things I say are simply normal, and maybe a bit boring.  But I can also speak venomous things.  And it is made worse because I carry the title of “pastor.”

We must be healed, we must be made whole.  We simply cannot continue to roll through people’s lives like we have for so long.  We must want to be healed, our hearts must be fixed, we are broken people.  If we are to bring healing, our own personal wholeness must first go to “the Great Physician.”  We cannot find strength in any other way.

ybic, Bryan

 

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(Lord, have mercy on us)

Staring Down Death

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“In the long run, we are all dead.”  —John Maynard Keynes

“Are you afraid to die? Remember that for a child of God, death is only a passing through to a wonderful new world…”  —Corrie Ten Boom

The idea of death is unpopular, unsettling and perhaps a little rude.  It is a great way of putting a good conversation into flight-stopping stall.  No one likes it (except maybe ‘Goths‘ and the perennial AC/DC fan).  It is perhaps ‘too true’ and the reality keeps us from dwelling on it.  But it is going to happen, you will die.

 “We live for seventy years or so (with luck we might make it to eighty), And what do we have to show for it? Trouble. Toil and trouble and a marker in the graveyard. Oh!  Teach us to live well!  Teach us to live wisely and well!”

Ps. 90:10, 12, MSG

Our modern society has made considerable effort to avoid the subject of death.  Thinking through this strikes me as unhealthy and confusing.  Through the past centuries, our present day attitude would be regarded as strange by them.

The Bible teaches us how to prepare to die well. 

We have been given several decades of life on this planet, but not much more than that.  The psalmist recognizes this.  He prepares for his/her personal appointment for death.  He prays that he will use wisely all the time he has left.  Psalm 90 has been part of that preparation for millions of Christians, for many centuries.

One way to help you purify a faith that is strong enough to look death straight in the eyes, is to have a few older Christian friends.  For me there is Pastor Ray.  He is in his 80s now.  I see myself marching behind him, and watching his back as he moves to heaven.  It helps me follow in some small way.  It gives me peace.  Maybe that is how it is supposed to work.

The Bible is a book that is to prepare us for death, and then eternity.  It is our compass as we look for ‘true north’.  It has instructions and guidance, if we listen to the voice, it will bring us through the ‘door of death’.  “Fear not, little flock.  It is God’s pleasure to give you the kingdom”.

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 “Lord, please get me ready to see you.  Teach me how to live wisely, and not as a foolish person.  Teach me to be a model of faith and strength to everyone who is watching me move toward death.  Give me courage and faith.  In Jesus’ name. Amen.” 

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The Oblivious Find His Mercy

sshot4f7069193810fI have had a strange life. 

There were times in one of the mental hospitals, where I was very much disconnected from the real world.  I went through weeks of “not understanding,” I wasn’t able to mesh with the routine around me.  I sincerely thought I did, and I wanted to very much.  But the ‘gears’ wouldn’t come into alignment. Mental illness made me a stranger to what was real.

Struggling with mental illness will very often take you into places you have never, ever dreamed of.  As a matter of plain fact, you’ll hardly will grasp what is real.  And that is when you sink into insanity.  (At this juncture, only God can restore you.)

My heart goes out to those who are lost in their own minds. 

But certainly also to those ‘loved ones’ who are completely muddled. They so want to explain what is happening.  Those of us, ‘on-the-slide’ down, must realize that we are affecting all those lives of those who are nearest to us.  This is not a guilt-trip, but a simple acknowledgement of what ‘falls-out’ on the recipients of our twisted confusion.

“My mind is a neighborhood I try not to go into alone.” 
— Anne Lamott

The point of this is we must accept that there are places in our minds which are “no man’s zones” where logically none can go safely.  Those of us start to transgress that ‘zone’ and we become casualties.

Destruction rules in us, and we are undone.  All you want to do is to escape from what is hurting you.  Maybe that is why abusing alcohol and drugs is so prevalent among hurting people.

I do want to encourage you who are waiting for a dear one, a loved one to emerge from their confusion.  They are lost, and have disappeared into the fog.  It’s hard to see them anymore. Your heart breaks because of their condition.  But you must trust in the Grace of the Father.  You really have no other options.

“We are workers together with God, so we beg you: Do not let the grace that you received from God be for nothing.”

2 Corinthians 14:1

ybic, Bryan

 

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Pressed Roses

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33, ESV

This world is not our friend. And then we often face issues that create ugly things–  a fight with a spouse, poor choices, money problems– a lengthy list that seems that we’re always adding new entries. And as we each of us work through our tears, as we face sickness, loneliness, fear and misunderstanding.

In this world of woe and trouble, we discover that life is itself often brutal. Myself, I must deal with clinical depression, paranoia and physical pain. It is constant, a barrage of challenging things. Sometimes they swallow me up, and I lose my way.

I was thinking this morning, of a recent find in the pages of an old book– pressed rose petals! The book had been many years on the shelf. When I opened the book they I found them.  Typically, they are fairly well preserved. They still have color and shape. And most of all, they still have a fragrance.

I really don’t know what I’m supposed to do when this happens. Do I just “read” around them, or do I physically remove them? I almost feel that they are sacred or something. Do I find an old jar and store them? But no matter what I do, I always pause and think. Sometimes though, I can even remember the incident that they were given. An anniversary or a birthday maybe? Or sometimes they are given, “just because.”

Two distinct thoughts work in me. I look at the hard, hard things that I have had to process through my past, and present, and most likely, my future. I have to believe, from all that I have read and the preaching I have heard over the years that my pain gets turned into gold (or into roses!) This is exclusively a work of God. The second thought is a little bit harder to think through. But Jesus is the rose. He is the beauty and the fragrance of heaven come to earth.

There is an old fable kept by the believers of the first century; it was said that wherever Jesus stepped while on earth, roses would spring up in His footprints. This is only a legend of course, but that doesn’t mean that it is all false. Some of these stories have more truth in them than we think.

 

Coming to Him is such pleasant thing. It shouldn’t be an agonizing ordeal. It is not a painful or real sacrifice. After all, He is the rose. Roses are beautiful, they have a definite fragrance. There is a symmetry to them, and they are special, people will cultivate them for their beauty. Roses are never a hassle, for some reason we can never send or get too many.

“I am the rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.”

Songs 2:1, ESV

“A discipleship without flowers, probably isn’t worth having.”

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