I originally wrote this the night of September 3. I was very discouraged and I started to write and my writing turned to worship and in worship, God made Himself known to me. I was not attempting to be overly dramatic or melancholy, but I often feel things that I can't articulate until I begin to write and that night submerged feelings and memories turned to words and words described pain and pain was brought to God. And, God heals. Tonight, I sit in my room instead of on a plane to India with the team that left this morning from our church to continue our work there. I am home because of the same continuing abdominal wound I wrote about here. I am continuing to struggle with it. Since I wrote this, I have been going to a wound care specialist and I am getting no better. This morning when I went to the doctor, It bled so much I had to go home and change my pants after blood poured all over them at the waist. I am in pain and I am tired. But tonight, I thought of this post that I saved and never published and I read it and God showed up again reminding me that no matter what situation I am in, I can rejoice in Him because He is all that matters. We rejoice not in what we do or in who we are, but in who He is. If you have ever suffered through a trial that you don't understand, I hope that this will encourage you to fix your eyes on Jesus. Even though I am 6 weeks further along in this and things are only getting worse, I can honestly say that I am encouraged because of Christ, not because of the circumstances. He is enough.
Since the end of June, I have been going through quite a physical ordeal. Over two months ago I had out-patient surgery to correct an umbilicial hernia that had occurred a couple of months before. I don't know how it happened, but it just did. So, I was supposed to have a fairly simple procedure and would heal up in about 10 days or so. First of all, the pain from the surgery was unreal. I actually have a pretty high pain tolerance, but this was pretty bad. When I would lean forward, it felt like my stomach was ripping apart. So, this went on for a few days until I began to heal and recover. All went according to plan until the end of July when my body began to push the stitches out and "overheal." That's what the doctor called it. I began to produce a great deal of granulated tissue and it got in the way of my stomach actually healing. Basically, it became a mess. The worst part was the intense muscle pain that I've been going through as my stomach involuntarily contracts all day long trying to hold the wound back from any contact.
I went back to the surgeon on Monday and he said that it was not healing properly. I thought, "Ya think?" That's what I had been saying for several weeks now, but he kept telling me that it would heal. So yesterday, we went back into the operating room and he cut me again, this time to remove the granulated tissue and give me another chance to heal. This has been going on for over two months now and I have a ways to go still before I am back to normal.
I am writing all of this to say that I am learning about limitations and how our pain can teach us a lot if we'll pay attention and not just overlook things. I mean, I know that I don't have superhuman strength and I am not the smartest guy in the world. I get all that. I'm not wealthy or famous or listened to by the masses. I am a pastor and in serving God this way I have to admit that I do not have the charisma, good looks, or leadership ability of the other leading pastors that it seems all pastors are compared to. I'm just not "that guy." I never have been, really. But, turning 35, going through this trial, and putting on some more weight has begun to remind me of how weak I really am - according to the world's understanding, anyway. And no, I'm not trying to feign false humility here by saying that when I am weak then God is strong. That is true, but that is not my point, at least not directly.
My point is this: We spend a lot of time comparing ourselves to others and we put a lot of pressure on ourselves. We try and be "the man" and we think that we can do anything. We feel like we have to conquer the world and get everything right all the time. I'm talking about pastors here primarily, but you can apply this to anyone who takes life seriously and wants to make a difference in the world. I follow a lot of pastors on Twitter and the pressure that they put on everyone to save America through building the perfect church just is not realistic. Sometimes, we go through trials where we are fortunate to just get out of bed in the morning. I have hurt every day for the past two months. It has become difficult just getting around. It is hard to think about saving the world when you have trouble tying your shoes because it hurts so bad to bend over. I am not complaining. I'm just saying that sometimes we need to recognize what we're going through and trust God to take care of what we cannot take care of ourselves.
When my son, Caelan, contracted cancer as an 8 month old over 3 years ago, it tore me apart. I prayed, I went to work everyday, and I counseled other people. I pastored my church and I tried to lead my family. But, inside, I was coming apart. I was scared. On the surface, I was praying, rejoicing in the Lord, and trying to give it all to God. I was trying to. But, down deep, something else was happening that I didn't understand. Fear was welling up inside of me and it would erupt at different times in the form of anxiety attacks. I could be anywhere and something would trigger it and all of a sudden I couldn't breathe. My chest would tighten and hurt badly. My face would start tingling. My blood pressure would go up. I'd claim Scripture verses. I'd pray. It didn't work, at least not directly like I wanted it to. I still had to go through the attacks. I went to see my doctor and he gave me some pills for anxiety that I didn't want to take. But sometimes when I couldn't breathe and I would have severe chest pains and headaches, I took one. I tried to get through as many attacks as I could without them and would sometimes beat my chest with my fist to get it to open up instead of just taking the little pill. I think I was trying to be a tough guy or something. I was trying to prove I didn't need the medication. My son had cancer and it was tearing me apart but I was still trying to be strong. It didn't work very well. I didn't tell anyone about what I was going through because I didn't think that anyone wanted to hear it. People had their own issues, I told myself. Plus, I was the one who was supposed to be helping everyone else. I was a pastor. I was embarrassed that anxiety was affecting me. What an idiot I was. Three years later, Caelan is healthy and we praise God. God healed, praise His Name! The anxiety attacks have ceased along with his cancer treatments. But, the other children that we went through chemo and radiation with are dead. Their parents were Christians and they were praying just like us and we saw child after child die from the cancer. It took its toll on us. It caused us to realize that you can't make deals with God.
When I was a boy, my father was strong and tall. He worked hard everyday and he would play with me. I remember running with him along the beach on one of our vacations. His feet were so big and his stride was so long, I could not possibly catch him. I was about six years old. I remember the feel of the wind against my skin and the sun bouncing off the warm Gulf of Mexico. My father was a man and he was strong and he was fast and I couldn't catch him. And that was how things were supposed to be. About a year later, he was disabled and he would never run again. I never ran alongside my Dad again. He had disintegrating discs in his back and had multiple surgeries that never helped him. To this day, he is in chronic pain and has been through many trials in his life. I prayed for years for him to be healed and he never has been. He still suffers. I don't understand it and doubt that I ever will. But, God has never left Him alone. Two nights ago, he led a man to Christ who delivered newspapers to a gas station in his hometown. He just ran into him, started talking, and over the course of the conversation, led him to the Lord. God still glorifies Himself through Him after all that he's been through and nothing about him fits any formulas that I've read in any Christian books that tell you how to be happy, successful, or how to build a great church.
Pain is real. It can be debilitating. It is humbling. We experience physical pain and limitations and we can be emotionally devastated as well. Rejection is a killer. Working hard and never measuring up to the expectations that you put on yourself can be some of the worst torture. Where is our rest? Our hope?
This is the part where I am supposed to say that God is our hope and He makes everything better. I talk a lot about looking to Jesus but it isn't so that everything will be better. Sometimes nothing gets better, at least the way that you want it to. Sometimes the pain overtakes you, your childhood gets wrecked, your own child gets cancer, and you have trouble getting out of bed in the morning. Sometimes your dreams die no matter how hard you try to keep them alive. But, Jesus is all there is. He is real and He is alive and that is enough. He meets you in the pain when you feel like you are losing your mind. He meets you in that place and He carries you and you see His nail scarred hands and His stripes that heal you and the punishment that brought you peace. You, along with creation, groan waiting for your full redemption but it is not yet. Still, there is hope within because Jesus is real and it is not because everything is better and you don't hurt anymore, but it is because He hurt along with you and took it on Himself so that you don't have to bear it. And, in that moment of exhaustion you push your pain onto Jesus because you can't carry it anymore and you realize that He is all that matters and He is all that is real - and so you worship.
I'm not trying to paint a dreary picture here. I'm really not. Rejoicing is important and vital. Proclaiming victory is wonderful. God gives us many good days and we have much to be thankful for. Life can be very beautiful and we need to celebrate that as often as possible. But, if we aren't honest about the pain we also experience in our human condition then we end up separating ourselves from reality and we even separate ourselves from God - because Jesus was honest about the pain. He was most glorified on the Cross. He suffered and died. That was real. And in that, he entered into our loss and suffering and took it upon Himself. When I face physical limitations and I don't accomplish all I want and I get older and realize that I'll never be "that guy," I look to Jesus and realize that He loves me and He uses me anyway, even if I never measure up in the eyes of the world - or in my own eyes to some artificial picture of what I am supposed to be. I find Him there anyway, in the midst of disappointment and loss and suffering and rejection. He is always there.
The pain is real. But that is not all. So is the resurrection and because of that, we can hope. But, we don't get to the resurrection without the crucifixion and it is often in the dying and the groaning that we experience mercy and find Jesus redeeming and restoring - making all things new. I am hurting right now and am feeling the limitations of this earthly house that is called my body. But in that, I find myself longing for home and maybe I slow down and listen to God a little more and ask Him to do what He wants instead of what I want. Because the Spirit gives life but the flesh counts for nothing and it is better for Him to work through my weakness than to bless my strength. And if I boast, let me boast in my weakness that brings me to Christ.
At the end of the day, there is Jesus. And there is Jesus. And there is Jesus.
And He is enough.
Comments