Pain connects us
“…and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all of our troubles, so that we may comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4
If you’ve ever felt like you’d rather die than live, you understand pain. If you’ve ever wanted to drive your car off the road or into oncoming traffic, you understand pain. If you’ve ever experienced such physical pain or emotional pain that you’ve seriously contemplated suicide because you can’t withstand one more day, hour, or second of the pain, you understand pain.
I used to feel so isolated and alone going through severe, incessant chronic illness during so many different stages of life: high school, college, work, marriage, and motherhood. The magnitude of my invisible illness, dealing with it morning, noon and night, isn’t even in the realm of understanding for most people. Most doctors I’ve seen over the years basically threw their hands up not knowing what treatment to recommend or where to send me next.
You begin to lose your way emotionally and feel lost when your health just doesn’t make sense. When everyone else around you seems “normal” and “healthy”, you begin to subconsciously retreat from interacting with others and wonder what’s wrong with me that I can’t get better. Your self-esteem takes a dive. You hear about their “normal”, mostly temporary problems, and you long for those instead of your own. They don’t have that overwhelming non-stop stomach pain or horrible muscle pain throbbing that makes it hard to even focus or carry on a conversation.
It is incredibly scary to have your body feel completely out of control ALL THE TIME. Symptoms and their severity are uncertain for me on any given day or at any given hour, so it is hard to make plans with others. Most people understand a temporary illness like the flu or a cold because they too have experienced it. It is hard to explain a chronic one and the need to cancel plans because you can’t get out of the bed.
With that level of uncertainty making plans in advance caused anxiety, so it became easier to just stop making a lot of plans. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone or be perceived as the unreliable, flaky friend. However, isolation only heightens emotional sadness. The protection strategy I instituted was working against me.
I no longer felt happy, fun, and carefree. I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders accompanied by tremendous worry about the future. How will I be able to handle life tomorrow if the pain is worse than today? Is more surgery coming? Will I be able to keep working? Can anybody help me? The daily roller coaster of emotions and fears can be extreme. One minute I can be severely depressed like can’t stop sobbing and pick myself up off the bathroom floor, then two hours later I can be hopeful when a passage of scripture lifts my spirit or a new medical treatment option gives me restored hope.
Many times it is easy to become jealous of others who have it “all”; my definition of having it all is having your health. Health isn’t typically appreciated or fully understood until it is gone. The grass always looks greener, right? What I do know is that I’m abundantly blessed to still be alive, able to work, and have a family that loves and supports me in sickness and health.
Here are four lessons I’ve learned about pain:
- Allow your pain to connect you with others.
I’ve discovered that pain can be a universal thread of life that can connect us with others and God. No matter what kind of pain it is, physical or emotional, past or present, chronic or acute, almost every single person in our lives has some or has had some that has shaped their lives. If they haven’t, they will. Most likely, that pain has been a big influence on the person they’ve become today.
Naively, I often thought other people’s problems were so different from mine that they could never relate to me, or I could never relate to them. For example, her father has passed away or his wife cheated on him. She dropped out of high school or had a horrible childhood because of an alcoholic mom. Some people don’t have physical pain, but intense, crippling emotional pain. Many people have both.
What I’ve learned is that there’s no measurement to say that one’s pain is greater than another. The source of the pain, the longevity of the pain, or the type of pain doesn’t really matter at all. The real raw, overwhelming pain that we’ve uniquely experienced or will experience is easier to bear if you share it with others. We can all unite under the common ground of hardship. No matter its source and no matter what kind, pain connects us.
“No matter its source and no matter what kind, pain connects us.”
When you have significant pain of any kind, you have a perspective shift. You change, and you grow. Sometimes I feel like a part of me has died. Although the more I deeply connect with others, the more alive I feel.
So, make plans, go meet friends, or have them over to your house if you can’t leave, in spite of how you are feeling. If you are in pain (especially chronic pain), do it anyway. Your pain will be there no matter what right? At least it won’t be on the forefront of your mind during that visit.
- Pain can make you a more sympathetic and caring person.
Pain allows you to be sympathetic and strong for others when they don’t know their own strength. Yes, you in all of your hardship, have the incredible gift to show them their own strength.
Tears flood my eyes as I write this. One of the most amazing and inspiring people in my life lost an adult child suddenly to a genetic heart condition. She has the most vibrant, contagious personality. She simply lights up a room, and I saw that the first time I met her and her incredible daughter. We were interviewing them to be Ellie’s in home day care teachers.
I quickly saw her gift as did my husband. A special spark that you don’t see in many people, a heart of gold and a true passion for what she does was evident. As I began to get to know her, I saw her unwavering faith in Christ, no matter what the circumstances were. She has now become an intricate part of my life on a daily basis. Not only because she takes excellent care of my daughter and has literally become family (part of our village), but also because we have an undeniable bond. I believe God connected us, but I also believe I’m drawn to her strength and endurance during the circumstances she’s faced. She makes me stronger just by being in my life.
While I knew that she’d lost her son , I didn’t know the actual circumstances until years later. When I felt comfortable, I finally ask. She willingly shared. I already knew she’d lost her brother to cancer, one of her best friends to cancer, and she recently lost her father. She’s suffered unimaginable loss. What did her story do for me? My heart broke in a million pieces, but I remained in more awe of her attitude, faith and heart. How do you ever come back from that or have faith in God after that? I’ve realized there are superheroes that walk among us every day dealing with unimaginable circumstances from their past and present that we couldn’t fathom dealing with in our own life, even if our own circumstances look dire.
Hearing vulnerability from others and learning that they’ve found a way to get out of bed and keep going when all odds have been stacked against them is truly uplifting. It shrinks our circumstances. It takes our focus off of our problems, sometimes just temporarily. You may gain empowerment you never expected to continue on your path.
- “Age is just a number”.
The adage that “age is just a number” is true in the right context. Since we all grew up going to school and participating in activities with friends our own age, it only seemed right to maintain or create friendships as adults with people the same age or even in a similar life stage. While it is true we tend to have more in common with people our own age, I’ve found that age can have no relevance on your ability to connect with others and build friendships. I’ve actually found I relate more to some people that are ten, fifteen or twenty years older than me simply because they’ve experienced more life. They have more perspective on pain.
- Let go of your fear.
I used to be so frightened to share my story. Why? My health issues seem to be such an anomaly. I felt (and sometimes still do) some embarrassment and shame when people ask how I’m feeling and I can’t say, “Oh, I’m much better now, thank you.”
Fast forward to present day, I’m no longer completely scared (admittedly, still nervous at times) to share my story. My perspective has changed from fear to strength. I’m not less of a person for my story but more of a person. By getting some of the deep hurt off my chest, I clear room in my heart for more joy.
So, you may be going through a divorce, but your friend hasn’t. Your friend may have lost her father recently, but your father is in perfect health. You may have a fantastic job, but a friend lost her job. Your friend is infertile, and you have three kids. Your friend has cancer. You have severe chronic illness, but you are not going to die. Lean on each other no matter how different your pain is. Even if you don’t know what to say, just show up and be present. God created us to comfort each other and live in community, not isolation.
I give you this call to action today. Turn your fear into your strength. Start healing. Be more vulnerable and open with others. Now, let’s be real for a minute. Don’t just walk up to the next stranger you see at Target and blast them with a tearful story. However, in the right circumstances, be bold and brave. Those deep scars have made you the unmistakable, beautiful person that you are today.
I know I have quite a story, but believe me I know others with stories that are far worse than mine. If you feel your story isn’t “big” enough, shut that down now. All pain is relevant in the eyes of our Creator and in the eyes of all of those in your life that truly love you. You’ll be amazed as your happiness level increases exponentially as you connect with others and offer your authentic self to them.