I watched a video this week where a musician was talking about the story behind one of his songs, The Lord is My Shepherd. He said this:
"I think one of the hardest questions I have had to answer for myself is 'What am I going to do with my pain?' because pain is just a reality of life. I remember going through a really, really dark season. I was flying home from some event, and I was thinking of all the places that I have taken my pain, because I had only recently become aware of it. And I'm like, oh, that season where I checked out in a television series for a week, yeah, that was probably where I was taking my pain. And I just said, 'Lord, I don't want to do that. I want to find real healing. I want to find real redemption in this, and I realise that the only place that I can find that is going to be in you. And I want to take my pain, when I'm in pain and my heart's hurting, I want to wait on you. I want to find you.'" [1]
In our contemporary world, we have so many ways to avoid or "manage" our pain. One of the reasons that the first monastics retreated to the desert caves was in order to come face to face with their demons and temptations, not hiding from their broken humanity. They recognised that when they brought the place of their greatest need and deepest pain to God, his strong and loving spirit became manifest. Their concern was not primarily for their physical well-being (which is a bit of an obsession in our current age). Their desire was to be transparent and honest before their Creator, knowing that he was the only one who could rescue them from their pitiful state.
And perhaps this is the first step in healing: to admit that we are pitiful, we are sick, we have maladies that we are not aware of, that things are not good. Theologian John D. Caputo says:
"If we could admit how bad things are, that would be the beginning of something good, of a kind of radical honesty with ourselves. … To confess the wounded, fractured condition of our lives – that is who we are! And that would be the beginning of wisdom in deconstruction, of something good.”[2]
Yes, let's get on the road to something good.
the photo: a cracked pot on my balcony that I tried to fix
[1] Jeremy Riddle. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qxx7YBuObAI
[2]
John D. Caputo, After the Death of God
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2007), 128.
Comments
Your first paragraph reminds me of the book "When the body says no" by Gabor Mate M.D. It is a medical book for the layman about how chronic stress (the fight or flight kind of stress experienced as a result of an insecure, unsafe, nurture-deficient childhood) effects our physical health. It's a very good book, I highly recommend it. Even if you had a magically wonderful childhood, there are things to learn about caring for ourselves now.