the journey through pain pt. 1

Let me preface this with the fact that the relationship I’ve been in for the past six months was not at a standard six month point. To me, anyway, it was very serious, I mean making big plans serious. That said, about a week ago my girlfriend broke up with me, it was rather sudden, but in hindsight makes sense. There are a lot of things going on in her life right now and this entry isn’t about the break up. It’s about the pain.

I don’t think anyone has a very good practice of dealing with pain. Some of us may understand better how to mentally relate to deep pain. Explanations for pain, reasons to push on through pain. As my good friend keeps telling me, “It gets better, but that consolation doesn’t mean anything until you don’t need it anymore.” The pain doesn’t cease until it’s done its work on you, and as long as you resist it, it will not cease. The more you try to escape, the harder it stares you in the face. For example during a night with my friends talking about the difficulties of the break up, a night spent dwelling on it, it eases up, I actually relax for the first time in three days. A few days later I get pretty drunk, ride around westport alone on my bike smoking cigarettes, and it hurts more than ever. The more you run away the faster the thing chases you.

There is a mewithoutYou song that begins “the cure for pain, is in the pain, so it’s there that you’ll find me.” This rings true. So do I just sit in it, dwell on it, wait for it to pass? Merely holding it close only seems to intensify and refresh the injury, sending us back to the initial reaction of denial, or pushing us further under into the despair of surrender. Surrender to the story that this is the end. That none of our dreams will come true, that what I had was the best thing ever and nothing will ever be as good. Merely remaining in the pain will not bring about healing. Later in the song it says “let yourself...dissolve into the Love who revealed himself quietly to me.” Let yourself.

Just earlier today my incredibly wise friend reminded me that it’s not easy to let God meet you in the pain, but that it’s a fight. You have to fight the thousands of stories that are railing against you. The story that she doesn’t want you because she saw that darkness in you, and just like the last girl she ran. The story that this is the beginning of an unbroken line of heartbreak. The story that not only have you not changed after so many attempts, but that you can’t, that there is something unfixable deep inside you and no one can love it. All of these stories are not true, they are lies from the enemy. These are the things you have to fight against. You have to fight the cynicism that says that either you're not worth it, or God isn’t good enough to give you happiness.

Healing isn’t passive, we must participate or we will never be well. We must enter the healing like a patient in a hospital educating themselves about their illness and pushing themselves through grueling physical therapy workouts so that they will walk again. If a physical injury or disease is ignored it will worsen until it destroys you. Emotional pain is just like physical pain, steps must be taken and there is much work to be done.

At the end of the work day today I walked outside and just as I opened the door it started to rain. As I sat there and watched the rain cover the pavement bit by tiny bit. The storm signified something to me. This weather that God made was not benign, it was terrifying, it was thunder cracking and water pouring down from heaven. He was showing me a different side of him, a side that isn’t safe. Showing me that when he works sometimes shit happens. Sometimes he lets us get hurt. He’s there. He will pick us up. He won’t always take us back in the direction we thought we were going. Our hearts will be broken. He will heal us, but we must listen to his story, not ours, not cultures, His.

And here tonight while the stars are blacking out

with every hope and dream I’ve ever had in doubt

I’ve spent ten years trying to sing these doubts away

But the water keeps on falling from my eyes

And heaven knows I tried to find a cure for the pain

Oh my lord to suffer like you do

It would be a lie to run away

--Jon Foreman “The Cure for Pain”