Pain, Sorrow, and Suffering.....Making Sense Of It.

It has taken me a long time to talk about this....I feel I am strong enough now....and it is time. I have always struggled with pain and suffering, the thought that God is always with you in the midst of it. The words, " he will never leave you or fore sake you ", that we toss in the direction of those whose world lays in rubble around their feet.
I think there are times on the grand stage of life, when a crisis of pain and suffering happen and the director/producer seem to have left the scene. The camera is left running. There is no one to explain what just happened, why it happened...or how the rest of the story will evolve. It's a freeze frame moment. You are stunned. Life's breath seems to have been sucked out of you. The hard drive in your head whirls frantically, trying to compute to make sense out of anything. In your free fall, you search for anything to hang on to.
I understand the concept of God being the great " I am ", the beginning, the end and every thing in between. But, there are times, when...you are on stage alone.
The Psalmist muses, All the days ordained for me were
written in your book before one of them came to be."
What does that mean?

Did God have script already written for me stashed away in the heavenly archives. Did God yell, " Action ", and I prepared to enter the stage of life.Did it unfold as initially written? Or is the script being edited as the act of living my life unfolds?
Can I proclaim with the certitude of the Psalmist, or do I imagine something else?
Over the past year and a half...I have suffered two pregnancy losses. Both tragically felt...the recovery has been slow for me. I have searched my soul..asked why a million times....and offered up my very soul to accept whatever outcome God has for me and my children. And yet the pain lingers...the loss is felt deep....in every sun ray it hurts, in any vase of flowers, in any pleasure I feel ...it reflects on the pain I feel at the same time. It feels like a line in a song I heard..."Sunny days seem to hurt the most...Feels like I'm wearing a heavy coat. " And an other said "Who said Providence can take a child from his Mother while she's praying" Was this a punishment...some kind of chastisement...was I not healthy enough....was I not good enough? One Lab report said placenta failure to develop. So painful to hear after seeing your baby move...and watching a fluttering heartbeat. Was this the script that was written by a grand director/ producer that I was to loose my babies.

Enter, pain and suffering...my world lay in rubble at my feet. As if hit by the wind of a hurricane, my well constructed faith was scattered debris in all directions. And the director, where was he...suddenly the stage, the theater was empty. The lights had been turned out, not even an " exit " light illuminated a path for escape. I was alone...utterly alone.
" I will never leave you or fore sake you ", " all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be" Where was the director, and who would write such a bizarre sick script and expect us to faithfully act it out. For months I tried to digest the above words. They only added to my pain and suffering, they tormented me. I had so many questions. I wept, I screamed into the depth of the darkness that seemed to be swallowing me. I heard nothing...nothing, not even a whisper.
It seemed the only person I could relate to was Job. If the script I was living out was unbearable, Job's script was absolutely insane. Just when things couldn't possibly get any worse, they got worse. And Job had questions. If there was a script, he wanted answers...why!!!
But what really upset me was, Job did finally get to question God. But in an even more bizarre twist, Job's why questions were thrown back to him with more questions from God. So in the end, did Job fair better than me? Sure he was restored, life returned to normal...even better than normal, but there really was no answer to his pain and suffering. About the only thing Job could say with certitude was God is God. That some how he is the beginning, the end and everything in between. But as to how it all works, how the script comes into play...the actors, the scenes, pain, tragedy and suffering...still so many questions.
For months, I embraced my pain, suffering, sorrow. It was breakfast, lunch and dinner. I lived in the midst of an emotional storm of anger. I came to realize my well constructed faith is fragile, something to be held lightly, and that in pain, sorrow and loss it sometimes breaks. In the end, I pick up pieces, not all the pieces...and I learn to live with new faith.
I believe there are times when we are alone. I believe there is a script to my life, but that it is a script of such imagination that I will never understand it...at least not here, on the stage in which I act out my part.
Pain, suffering and sorrow, are they pre-written into the intimate scripts of our lives? I don't think so. But they are a reality of everyday life. They torment us, and haunt us with never ending questions that we very seldom find answers to. They test faith, reconfigure, and reconstruct faith. And in the end, we likely find like Job did...God is truly God, miraculously he is the beginning, and the end...and everything in between.
I think we find God in the midst of friends, family who hold us, love us, hug us, and cry with us. They some how lift us carry us when we are too weak to even move. It is the hands, the face, the words of the God who is love coming into being. Mysteriously it is Emmanuel...God with us, in the midst of pain suffering and sorrow.

When my road leads into dark storms,
You will light up my eyesight.
When I fall on hard ground,
You will lift me up to rise.

When I face hardship and scorn,
We will together share our portion.
When I suffer in a hopeless sickbed,
We will together battle in each breath.

When I'm lost alone and lingering,
You will be with me, and guide me home.
One day I'll die and depart,
But I truly believe
You will lift me up.

O God, our Savior, listen to our prayer.
Fill our hunger, heal our sickness,
Comfort our souls.
If you wish not to answer,
Then please wait for us,
Because we are about to shut our eyes.

(unknown)

Now my act on stage has a new purpose...I felt overwhelmingly to rise from the ashes of this event with healing in my wings. God did finally answer my unanswered questions...

He said to me as clear as rain......"Mourn with those who mourn...and comfort those who stand in need of comfort." My pain was a lesson...a training ...a preparation to help me to help others who suffer the loss of a pregnancy or an infant. I also Put together Pregnancy and infant loss memory boxes for the hospital to give mothers in the hospital.If anyone would like to donate items for this project please let me know. I call them Butterfly Boxes...a butterfly has a very short lifespan...but a beautiful one that touches all . I was inspired to create a website for grieving mothers...if you know anyone who has suffered such a deep loss...please refer them to the website below...it is a safe place to grieve. This was a labor of love for me.

http://asafeplacetogrieve.blogspot.com/

BESIDE MYSELF

A SAFE PLACE TO GRIEVE PREGNANCY AND INFANT LOSS

For children who were broken.....

For children who were broken, it is very hard to mend....
Our pain was rarely spoken and we hid the truth from friends.
our parents said they loved us, but they didn't act that way. They broke our hearts and stole our worth, with the things that they would say.We wanted them to love us. We didn't know what we did to make them yell at us and hit us, and wish we weren't their kid.
They'd beat on us and scream at us and blame us for their lives. Then they'd hold us close inside their arms and tell us confusing lies. Of how they loved us -even though we were BAD, and how it was OUR fault they hit us, OUR fault they were mad. When days were just beginning we sometimes prayed for them to end, and when the pain kept coming, we learned to just pretend
that we were good
and so were they
and this was just
one of those days......
tomorrow we'd be friends.  We had to believe it so. We had nowhere else to go.
Each day we pretended,
we replaced reaity
with lies, or dreams,
or angry schemes,
in search of dignity.....
until our ies
got bigger than the truth,
and we had no one real to be.
Our bodies were forsaken.
With no safe place to hide,
we learned to stop
hearing and feeling
what they did to our outsides.
We tried to make them love us,
till we hated ourselves instead,
and couldn't see a way out,
and wished that we were dead.
We scared ourselves by thinking that, and scared ourselves to know, that we are acting just like them-
and might evermore be so.
To be half the size of a grown u
and trapped inside their pain...
To every day lose everything
with no savior or refrain....
To wonder how it's possible
that God could so forget
the worthy child you knew you were,
when you'd not been damaged yet...
To figuare on your fingers
that the years till you'd be grown
enough to leave the torment
and survive away from home,
were more than you cold count to, or more than you could bear, was the reality we lived in
and we knew it wasn't fair.
We who grew up broken
are somewhat out of time,
struggling to mend our childhood,
when our peers are in their prime.
Where others find love
and contentment,
we still often have to strive
to remeber we are worthy,
and heroes just to be alive.
Some of us are healing.
Some are stealing.
Most are passing the anger on.Some give their lives away to drugs,
or the promise of life beyond.
Some still hide from society.
Some struggle to belong.
But all of us are wishing
the past would not hold on
so long.
There's a lot of digging down to do
to find the child within,
to love away the ugly pain
and feel innocence again.
There's forgiveness
worthy of angel's wings
for remembering those at all,
who abused or scared childhood
and programmed us to fall.
To seek to understand them,
and know their pain became our own,
is to risk the ground we stand on
to climb the mountain home.
The journey is not so lonely,
as in the past it's been....
More of us are strong wnough
to let the growth begin,
But while were trekking
up the mountain
we need everything we got,
to face the adults we have become,
and all that we are not.So when you see us weary
from the day's internal climb...
When we find fault
with your best efforts,
or treat imperfection
asa purposeful crime...
When you see our qquick defenses,
our efforts to control,
our readiness to form a plan
of unrealistic goals...
when we run into a conflict
and fight to the bitter end,
remember...
we think that winning means
we won't be hurt again.When we abandon OUR thoughts
and feelings,
to be what we believe YOU
want us to,
or look at trouble we're having ,
and want to blame it all on you....
When life calls for new beginnings,
and we fear they're doomed to the end,
remember....
Wounded trust is like a wounded knee-
it's very hard to bend.
Please rember this
when wee're out of sorts.
Tell us the truth, be our friend.
For children who were broken.....
it is very hard to mend.


Elia Wise

Pain brings Spiritual Awakening

 

     If I ponder on some of my darkest days....they become so real I can taste them. I can re-experience every sensation that encompassed me. I am slowly becoming a humble, and emotionally mature creature. I see that, I can use that pondering, as a tool to study and learn from the past. When I get too carried away with any one distraction from this world, it is good for me to settle down for some meditation time. In those moments, sullen, and serious, and deep, I find I reflect on what my life story has taught me. There is a path, there is a mountain to climb, there is a direction to go, there is a gateway to be entered. Unfortunately that path is narrow, the mountain quite steep, I'm at a loss at directions sometimes, and the gateway, well it is covered with angels, who I dare not pass.

     One thing is for sure, if I have any hope....which most certainly we all do, I must be brave.
I must be brave in the storm even if brave means shaking and shivering it out ,bruised and broken and scared, only to rise with the sun to feed the hungry children. What is brave?  Brave is courage. What is courage? It doesn't mean you don't doubt yourself, or you aren't scared, or you have everything under control. It means you don't give up, you have hope, you believe in possibilities, you rely on unseen help. It means you embrace empty moments, and just let them melt into you as your heart pleads for answers. It takes a brave, courageous woman or man to walk the narrow path , to enter the angel guarded gates.

    The lessons pain has taught me is that in those darkest reflections called memories, I can be prepared for something so vast in purpose, so beyond my finite comprehension, that I wouldn't trade all the suffering of a lifetime, to miss out on knowledge like that. That very knowledge leads me into true spiritual awakening. You know you have struck the brilliantly lit pot of spiritual gold, when you can no longer look in the mirror without seeing in the reflection, the suffering of the whole world. There it is, when that moment happens, grasp hold before it slips beyond reach again. Hold tight, and use that tug on your heart called compassion. Take that hard earned gift, and touch someones life today. It doesn't have to be someone you know or someone you feel is deserving of your compassion, actually it may be best if it's not. Go touch a life, that no one wants to touch. And then no matter how it is received, the reflection in the mirror, will show you your path, the narrow one, the one you never thought you could maintain, the one that leads you down a road that connects to choruses of angles beckoning you to stay.


  

Just Be Held

So I cry a little.......

 

  Sometimes the only answer is a good cry. Crying is good for the soul. For perhaps the first time, researchers are successfully verifying that crying is actually good for us because it reduces tension and it increases the body's ability to heal. Not only tears, but perspiration, urine and air that we exhale rid the body of various toxins and wastes. According to many studies, people not only feel better after crying, they also look better physically as well.

     Then there are those who frown upon a good cry....I say give it a try. I have spent many hours in tears in my lifetime. And I can't say I regret any of them. It is so human to cry. It makes us so real, so vulnerable, and yet so strong. The best thing ever is to find a safe shoulder to cry on...but that is hard to to come by. People are uncomfortable with their own pain, so it is hard for them to weep with those that weep. But if there is one lesson pain has taught me...(because I have had my share of it)....it is that once and for all, when pain passes and tears are all dried up, I'm stronger than before, and more prepared to weep when another soul weeps, and comfort when there is no comfort to be found. I can get comfortable around pain in ways some people just can't. So the beautiful teacher...pain....has helped me to help others learn what this pain stuff is all about. Do I regret the troubled waters I have waded my whole life? Well, ask me on my good days if you want to hear inspiration! If you ask me on a painful day, You may think the sky is falling...and there is nothing that can catch it. Or I might just start crying.....