Naming Your Pain

I've continued to reflect on that week we spent in Boone, NC back in 2014 (if you didn't read last week's blog, stop now and do so for a bit of context). Link here. 

I learned a lot about caring for people in trauma, as well as tucked away a few stones in my pocket for when the same begins to stomp into my territory like some taunting giant. 

Today's blog centers on one of the first hurdles that needed jumping as I flew Eastward from Colorado.

For some reason, they appointed me to kick off the first night of speaking in chapel to these battle-worn-and-weary-soldiers, desperately needing a retreat body, soul, and mind. 

I knew I'd be sharing (they gave me plenty of notice); but, I wrestled with what I, simple and ordinary, could share that might give them a boost, a little oxygen to the heart, nourishment to the soul. 

What did I know of suffering? 

Never in my life had I experienced "Ebola-hard."

Could I even relate to these warriors who'd sacrificed so much to beat back a visible, and an invisible, enemy?

Did I understand sorrow and suffering in comparison? 

The night before we were to fly out, I woke up unable to sleep, these questions racing through me.

So, as is typical (when this occurs), I crawled out of the warmth of my bed, landed on the couch in the family room, where I have my quiet time each morning.

With this struggle to find the right words at the right time for my friends fresh in my mind, I picked up where I left off in my daily Bible reading.

That happened to be in Psalm 18, aptly titled "The Lord is My Rock and My Fortress!"

The title alone boosted my spirit...My God would hide me within Himself, and strengthen me with the words to speak.

There are some great verses in Psalm 18, but this is the verse (29) that leapt off the pages into my soul (random, I know):

Indeed, with [God's] help, I can charge against an enemy; 

by my God's power, I can jump over a wall.

While the enemy lurking at my front door, tried to discourage and dissuade me from that which my God had asked of me, I had a  powerful ally the enemy could not defeat. 

His name is Jehovah Gibbor Milchama (David's name for The Lord Mighty in Battle).

My Lord would enable me to run at that old foe (the one who made it his business to question my abilities) with victory already won...and He, my Lord, would even help me jump the hurdles that stood in the way.

With that the Lord reminded me that sorrow and suffering is no respecter of persons. 

It hits us all...and we cannot compare our sorrow and suffering to someone else's, because they are SO VERY VERY PERSONAL! 

We, also, can't significantly declare that anyone's problems enter their lives at a lesser degree than someone else's: the situations are just DIFFERENT. 

Suffering is still suffering no matter what its name; and, we have to name it before we can move forward. 

Once, we agree that what we are experiencing is a HARD THING IN OUR LIVES RIGHT NOW, we are able to begin the journey toward healing. 

One friend wrote me at the beginning of this series, and said this (it's so important):

"Once, when I was going through a season of suffering, I was reluctant to label it as such. I didn't want to call it suffering because that's what was happening to Christians in China, the Sudan, Iran, North Korea, and I certainly didn't have it that bad! But when I stopped comparing my suffering to that of others, and named it for what it was, it opened up to me all those promises of God from the Scriptures, as well as the ability to receive the comfort of God (and the dispensing of it to others)...and, THAT'S WHEN I GOT UNSTUCK, and began to see GOD WITH ME IN THE SUFFERING." (Mary Wilhelm)

Ponder that...

Before I can enter into healing, I have to see my struggles for what they are... 

I MUST name them as such.

Then make a plan for moving forward biblically.

THIS WAS THE KEY for determining what I would be sharing with my dear friends, just having walked through Ebola-hard. 

I named my season of suffering.

It looked different than theirs, but it was still a hardship unimaginable for me.

It was a "hard" unexpected that nearly unraveled my faith...

...but, I was able to share that story and how the Lord entered in, redeemed my sorrow and suffering, and taught me invaluable lessons in it, that I could now share with them and others.

Yes, in all hardship, God wastes nothing. 

He will use it to help us enter into someone else's pain and become a comfort-dispenser as a result.

First - we have to identify and claim it for what it truly is...