The Gift of Pain, Part I

To everything there is a season. A time for every purpose under heaven…Ecclesiastes 3:1

Christmas is coming. Have you noticed it arrives quicker every year? I remember as a kid the anxious anticipation of gazing at my packages under the tree and keeping my hands in my robe pockets for fear they would find their way to the ribbon before breakfast. That was a hard and fast rule in our house. Absolutely NO opening packages until we’d had breakfast.

Before I was able to figure out a gift by its shape and the way it rattled, I would tear into each one thinking “this is the gift I asked for,” or “I bet this is the toy I wanted.” Then with great disappointment, I found socks - or my personal favorite - underwear. I didn’t care that it was practical. I didn’t care that I needed it. It wasn’t what I’d wanted or hoped for.

Pain is a lot like that. It isn’t what we want. It isn’t what we’d hoped for. But it is sometimes necessary.

And it is a gift.

I had a teacher in middle school I never liked, Mr. Fowler. He was old, grumpy, he never smiled, and he wore a bow tie. Yes…a bow tie. Every day. He was my math teacher so it was a subject I already hated, so Mr. Fowler made it more…hateful. But he was a patient, long-suffering instructor. He would work with me until I understood. He wanted me to untangle a problem, understand, and learn. Mr. Fowler was a gift to a little girl that didn’t understand math.

Pain is like that. We hate it. We don’t want it. We try to run from it. But pain, like Mr. Fowler, is a perfect instructor. There are many examples in the Word of our Father using pain to instruct His children and not because He is mean or grumpy. Sometimes our own disobedience or a bad choice brings it on, or even situations we have no part in, like the death of a loved one or a job lay-off.

Whatever the circumstance, pain is an unwelcome friend and an effective instructor enclosed in a package we must unwrap sometimes. Why? 

Because it brings correction when needed, direction when sought, focus and clarity when pressed into; It gets our attention, and that is just the beginning.

Boundaries and Bridges

This has been a brutal two weeks for me. I lost the man I called dad for 25 years. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed his spiritual and fatherly influence in my life over the last four years until he was no longer here. I hadn’t spoken to him since before my divorce was final - we had both built a boundary of pain and grief around our hearts.

A month ago, that boundary was torn down by a chance FaceTime chat between my daughter, son and I. My daughter was visiting her grandparents and she put them on the screen. It was awkward at first - kind of like trying to remember how to speak a language you hadn’t spoken in a long time. Eventually words came, and it was as if bricks of time and pain didn’t exist.  I had the gift of moments’ with him to tell him I missed him, loved him, and prayed for him.

That was the last time I spoke to him. The last time I got to share my love for him. Our boundary was torn down and a bridge was built. Pain and tears was the wood and nails, but the bridge was finished and I am so grateful. He had ceased to be my father-in-law, but became my father-in-heart instead.  

During the myriad of family plans and funeral arrangements, I had another ‘gift of moments’ to talk to my former husband on the phone and express my grief and pain at our mutual loss. After four long years, we were on common ground with shared pain. The Lord birthed a sweet Agape-covenant-love with him during those conversations. There was no pain from decades of heartache. No anger, no hostility; only sweet Christ-centered, compassion, love and care for the man who’d granted me two of the greatest gifts I’d ever received - our children.

That was when I knew a perfect miracle had happened. When I could look past decades-old heartache, anger, betrayal, and pain and all I saw was love, care, compassion. There was a genuine desire to be an ambassador of healing and encouragement.

God is good.

At the same time in unrelated circumstances, I also had the opportunity to build a healthy boundary for my heart. Using pain and shed tears I had to build a boundary between myself and another – not because of betrayal, anger, or offense – but out of self-honor and self-love.

Boundaries and Bridges - both built with pain and tears. Boundaries provide safety. Bridges provide a path for reconciliation. 

Pain, tears, words, and time are worthy tools in the Master’s Hands.