Pain

“What is your pain?”

I’m preparing to run a scene in acting class, and the instructor is asking about my character to make sure I’ve done my homework. She asks us about objective, relationships, and background, but always comes back to this: What is your pain?

“My father never loved me.” “I’m not good enough.” “Everything I touch gets ruined.” This is the key to unlocking the core of every character. The same is true of real life.

I know what my pain is. I’ve carried it for as long as I can remember, and though some days are better than others, it’s always there, ready to hit me where it hurts most. It shows itself when everyone else has gone to sleep and I’m lying awake in bed. It shows itself in abusive self-talk or in overreaction to past trauma.

If I knew what greater purpose it served, it would be more tolerable. But no amount of spiritual platitudes chase it away or make me feel better. Maybe it’s just as cruel and arbitrary as it seems.

I wish I could articulate it so poignantly, you would feel the same ache in your soul I feel in mine. It would be easier to carry this knowing I’m not alone – that someone else knows, or sympathizes, or cares. But you have your pain no one else can understand because it’s as personal as it is universal.

God has put each of us on a specific path, and in many cases, He puts in our path the one thing we least want. We could deal with anything but this. And God, in His awful grace, gives us this. 

I want it removed, but God has a nobler desire. He wants it to refine me, to lead me to Him. Why would I go to Him when He’s the one who did this? He put His own Son on the cross, so why should I trust Him? It’s true – if we want painless comfort, we should avoid God at all cost. But maybe there’s something better than happiness or comfort. Maybe there’s something better for me than to remove this thorn in my flesh, and better for you than to get the thing you want or remove the thing you don’t. 

A year ago, I wrote what I apparently still need to remember: “The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. I would prefer more blessings and less pain, but it’s all grace if it draws me to Him.” 

What is your pain? 

I wonder for both of us, if it will lead to self-absorption and self-pity, or if we will learn to surrender it. The pain we carry, its purpose, and the empathy of others – none of it matters as long as we have Christ. He didn’t promise to take it away; He just promised He would be with us, even in our pain.*

J.

*Matthew 28:20

Jan. 28, 2021