This Part Of The Journey-Crying Out

This part of the journey is not one that I would have chosen for myself or my children. A few days ago, one of my adult children was at the house and their eyes were very red and swollen. Since they had just gotten to the house, I asked them if they had just come from the cemetery. Their answer was what I suspected. I asked them if they have these kinds of moments on a regular basis. They said yes and especially when they go to the cemetery.

This is a painful journey for our family. The pain is relative to different circumstances in our lives. I had no idea that people experienced this kind of emotional pain. I was so young when I lost my mother. I am now much more compassionate.

I would describe this emotional pain like those who have an ongoing permanent painful physical disability. Every day you wake up it is there. Some days it is better than others but it is always there.

We would never tell a person with a permanent painful physical disability that it is going to get better with time. Time does not heal all pain. But because of our compassion for those who are hurting, we want to give them hope. Sometimes a false hope is worse than no hope at all.

The truth is it may never get better. God heals the broken hearted but sometimes that healing is not complete until we get to heaven.

We would also never tell a person with a permanent painful physical disability that they should not be hurting. Or we would never tell them that it is inappropriate for them to hurt at certain times. This would not be very sensitive. A person who has experienced a great loss like ours cannot control when they hurt unless they take pain killers or go to sleep.

At times, I do avoid certain events so that I will not make others feel bad for me and ruin the evening for them. Some times I can anticipate how certain things are going to make me feel and I evaluate if it is really necessary for me to attend. There is nothing more uncomfortable then sitting through something that everyone else is enjoying with a large lump in your throat because you are holding back the tears. It also makes others feel uncomfortable if they know you are hurting. At this time in my life, it is hard to disguise. My tear ducts are so open they flow like an open water faucet when I feel the slightest tinge of grief.

So what do you do if the pain never gets better? Living with pain is not very American. The American Dream is the possibility of a life with every creature comfort you desire and no pain.

The truth is most Americans live with pain. That is why so many people in our country are addicted to something. It’s normal for people with pain to turn to pain killers.

Living with pain is a new experience for me but it appears to be a permanent one. I can now vaguely remember just a little over a year ago going whole days and even weeks without hurting emotionally. It is already hard to remember what that was like. I feel like I have been sheltered for years from what so many people have been experiencing all around me.

Since my Christian ethic does not permit me to turn to pain killers to relieve emotional pain, what can I do?

I cry out my tears alone a lot. This is God’s natural way for us to find pain relief. It is amazing to me how I can have an emotional melt down and cry violently for a few minutes and then feel good enough to do something productive. This happens a lot on Sunday mornings before I preach.

I cry out to God a lot. I have stopped asking Him to take away the pain. I just ask Him to help me be strong enough to glorify Him with the way I live in spite of the pain.

I cry out to other people a lot. I have a small group of friends that are comfortable with me telling them how I feel and why. These friends do not expect me to get over it. Their goal is be a good listener and pray for me. Some of them have gone through a similar experience and talk to me about their feelings. It is comforting to just talk about your feelings in a safe environment. I have come to realize that I have not been a very good listener to the hurting people in my life.

I know this does not sound very appealing. But I have realized that being victorious does not always mean being delivered from your pain. It means having the strength to endure the pain in a way that honors God. I have found crying out to be very helpful to reach this goal.

And there are a lot of happy moments that I do experience in the midst of the pain. Every night my three year old granddaughter Gwynneth finds me to hug me before she goes to bed. Thank you Jesus! And nearly every day my eleven month old grandson Caedmon tries to show me his manhood by climbing over another obstacle in our house. I affectionately call Caedmon caveman. Thank you Jesus! And then there is the look of wonder on Will’s face when he realizes that he has just learned something for school that we have been working so hard to memorize. Thank you Jesus! And then there are the new levels of maturity that I see developing in each one of my children. Thank you Jesus! And I still like good food and an O.U. victory. And I love seeing people in our church get a hold of a vital truth. Thank you Jesus! And there is the hope of heaven and my reunion with my hero, Debbie Wells. Thank you, thank you Jesus.

There is happiness in the midst of the pain. And there is joy unspeakable and full of glory. I just wish Debbie was here to share this life with me. Until that day!
J
Jerry Wells