Purpose in Pain-a few words from Rob

This evening as I sat at the foot of my son’s bed, after having struggled through bedtime prayers with him, I reflected on the pain that I have been experiencing. Eating is painful, drinking is painful, swallowing a pill is painful, talking is painful, etcetera, etcetera.  I realized quickly that most of my thoughts are very selfish and based primarily on avoiding the pain . Since this cancer has shown itself on my tongue, even as a small canker sore this past fall, my main concern has been removing the pain. But maybe there’s more to pain than simply avoiding, minimizing or removing it. Maybe there’s a purpose in pain.

This struck me because I regularly, daily even, pray that my son would learn to love the Lord and follow Him every day, to be like Him, and for myself and Karen to also live that way.  I say I want to be like Jesus: to embody his character, follow his teaching, love God with everything and my neighbour as myself. So when pain comes what happens to that desire to be like Jesus? Do my prayers sound more like: ”Please God take this suffering away from me”? They usually do. Do I get crankier and complain a lot more? You bet. Do I lose my cool with my son at the drop of a hat? Most of the time. So is that becoming more like Jesus? By God’s grace it is!

As I was reflecting on all this, I realized that one purpose of pain is purification. The pain in life can be used to bring out the impurities, the sin, the ugly mess that gets tucked away when life is “normal”. The important part is how we deal with what comes out in response to pain. I have hinted at the fact that my patience wears thin at a faster rate than usual, pain has a way of doing that. But I have started to recognize it and confess it to God. His grace is sufficient for me, and it is strong enough in my weakness. More and more, I realize that I need Jesus on a moment to moment basis. So when pain starts boiling up in some spot, exposing the sin in my life, it’s a hard-earned path to a purified heart. A path that Christ has gone before me on and walks with me as the Good Shepherd.

Looking towards Tuesday I feel like I’m walking down the valley trail, its dark, too dark to see how long, how hard and what shape I will be in when I come out the other side. But I can see the other side, and I trust that Jesus is walking with me, because he has walked with me this far through the other trials in my life. The scary part is not knowing how deep and dark it will be, not knowing the fullness of my recovery, and frankly being afraid of the pain. But I trust in God, where else could my help come from?

Rob