Pain

When it Seems Beyond Purpose

On the first of this month, there appeared in the national news a story about a little girl who could feel no pain. (Ashlyn Blocker) Not to be envied, this little girl lacks the essential chemical that communicates pain sensation throughout her nervous system. She must be sheltered in an extraordinary way, and lives on the edge of disaster simply because she cannot feel the important warnings that pain provides.

Much was said about this at the time, about how we should be thankful for pain, etc. Pain is essential, the way our body tells us that something is wrong. Without pain, we can't protect ourselves. True, to a point. But it must also be said that sometimes pain seems to be an entity without, or beyond, any physical purpose.

I tried to balance all of this in my mind as I was in my second week of a slowly ratcheting migraine. By Saturday and Sunday, the pain had become so intense that I was back in that dark place, away from lights and people and the whole world. It is a place that only migraineurs understand. There have been times when the migraines have taken over, and I have suffered periods of short-term disability. Once I had a headache that lasted for four months without any relief--without a single hour of relief. In my heart of hearts, I live with the fear that the pain could come to stay, and never leave. This kind of pain doesn't seem like a friend or spiritual ally.

There are other kinds of pain, as well. One of my family members lives with chronic pain. Every day, she has to take pain pills for a debilitating condition for which there is no hope of recovery. It won't kill her, but only portends to cause her great pain for the rest of her life. Sometimes the pain pills help, sometimes they don't. She is a valiant soldier in faith, clinging to God and facing each day with whatever courage she can muster. I admire her more than I can say. Only God knows what purpose this pain serves.

Another person I knew suffered from such terrible depression that it couldn't be relieved by antidepressants, therapy or any earthly remedy. Now all I have left is to pray for her after her death. What purpose did her psychological pain serve?

So that's the darker side of pain. There are things that we don't understand. We like to think that science has all of the answers--that even pain can be explained. The truth is though, that in the darkest of nights, when we are alone with our pain, we have nowhere to turn but to our merciful Father. Only He can hold us close and soothe us, not with an explanation--He doesn't owe us that--but with love that surpasses pain.

This love is evident in prayer. In Scripture, we are instructed to pray for the sick. We need to do more of this for one another, I believe. There is nothing so comforting as the arms of a dear friend around you, pleading for God's mercy in your pain. If you are suffering, have the humility to ask a friend or family member to pray for you, to enter with you into God's presence. Remember, too, that the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick is not reserved for the dying, but for the living who need to feel the nearness of Gods' love.

By the grace of God I can stand as a witness to this love. There are times when the pain is so bad that I can't see beyond it, with my eyes or with my spirit. But God does not abandon the heart that calls His name. It is a mystery that I cannot explain, but only proclaim to others who are reaching out into the darkness. Call on Him, for He is faithful.

He is faithful.