secret mission: pain

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer.

-- 2 Corinthians 1:3-6 (italics mine)

If you've noticed in the last couple of entries, I've been walking through pain with my friends. I've been talking back and forth with others about their pain and I'm going to continue that string of thoughts by introducing a new character: you.

Why do you go through your pain? I mean, you have some, right? Things you think and feel that you're afraid to have another living soul come near. Why?

Well, you remember that guy I mentioned in the last entry? He wondered how his kid would feel about all of these things and most importantly how being separated for so long would affect their relationship. Here, it would have been easy to spit out a bunch of things I read on WebMD or knew from a some knowledge I gathered from psychology classes and wikipedia, but I decided to just share the pain I had run into before.

When I was younger, I didn't meet my dad for a long time. I had two sets of grandparents, but hadn't really met my dad. When I met him, he was always Johnny. Not "dad". I couldn't call him that until I was 15 or so. I wondered so many things.

When I met him, I also met a stepmom and five other brothers and sisters. I had a whole family I didn't even know existed until that time. I wondered where he was for all the birthdays he had missed and things that happened in school and all of this and it took me years to piece together that it wasn't his choice to be separated from me. Knowing that helped a lot.

I had a lot of questions and we talked a lot. For someone I had never seen, we sure did act alike. Words cannot describe how I felt the first time I called him "dad". It was a beautiful morning and the sun made the sky look golden for a moment as he looked at me in awe when I said that word.

There's a lot more to tell, but this is the point of my story: sharing that part of my life and the pain that came with it made him want to hear more of it. More than that, when I am talking to him, the comfort that God has given to me in my younger years is extended to him in the present time. Take that on a test drive -- God uses something in my past to give someone comfort in the present who will be able to comfort someone else in the future.

He does the same with your pain. That is why it isn't pointless.

Your loneliness.

Your emptiness.

Your struggle with pornography... or drug addiction... or anything else you have fought to the near-death with and somehow managed to beat back or stave off or just not cave into for one more day.

None of this is pointless. Frustrating? Yes. Angering? Yes. Depressing? Yes. Pointless? Never that.

Is that to say that God puts through pain specifically for this purpose? I'm not God to answer that question, but my guess would be no. On the other hand, it is very likely that He will see you in your suffering and help you so you can help other people in the future. Why would He allow the pain in the first place?

Well, this is a fallen world.

The other thing to think about is that pain has a peculiar bonding power. There are some things that you just can't bring yourself to share as openly when that person doesn't share the pain that you do. It may be possible for someone to logically comprehend, but what you want is to know that someone has experienced that same heartbreak you have. You want someone to have been up into the late night crying or feeling lost or numb or jaded or anything that is like the way you felt because pain makes you feel like you're alone and we hate that feeling and our pain is too personal and precious to us to ever want to share with someone that won't fully appreciate it.

That's how you feel, isn't it? You want someone that cries with you because they understand more than you want someone to lay hands on you and pray any prayer of peace. This is why being there is important. This is why sharing our pain is important. It lets people seeking comfort find it. In this case, this man may not have even known how to ask God for that comfort, but asking me is easy when I'm sitting in a bar with a bottle of OJ and a cookie.

Remember: your pain doesn't end with you. It could potentially give comfort and strength to many you come in contact with. Be discerning, but when the moment comes, be willing to open up and share your pain with others. You may just find a comrade in arms and that person you share with might find God.