Feel the Pain, Love the Pain

For various reasons all four of our children have been born by C-section. When our third child, Davis, was born the doctor had overlooked prescribing any pain killers for after the surgery. As the sedation began to wear off, Rachel was increasingly aware of the pain in her mid-section. There came a point where she could feel everything, as if she had been sliced open by a cruel knife on the battle field.
She is a tough girl, so as I watched the tears well up in her eyes, I knew she was in a lot of pain. Later, she told me that there came a point where the pain leveled off and it was so bad that she knew it couldn’t get any worse. She was almost grateful knowing that if this was the worst physical pain she would encounter, she could handle it.
For the last seven years working at HP, I often had to clothe myself in a suit of emotional numbness to make it through the day. I simply shut down so I didn’t have to feel the minutes and the hours slowly click by. I remember often after a joy filled weekend or an extended holiday filled with cheer consciously choosing to slip back into my “suit”. It was a sad way to live, yet I felt financially secure so I continued to drudge on.
The Lord often speaks to me through movies. Probably because He is gracious and knows that watching movies is one of my favorite things to do. Increasingly, I note that often the most popular movies are those dealing with a character that is trapped in a meaningless existence. He longs to escape the drab colored walls of his cubicle jungle. He longs to really feel alive. He longs to feel.
The feeling of freedom, or in this case, the freedom of feeling is never cheap. Stepping out of the “Matrix”, swimming against the tide, rocking the boat can be a lonely, painful experience. In many movies, once the character experiences true reality, he often longs for the simplicity, the numbness that he was once so accustomed to.
Recently, in the middle of a fast from everything ingestible other than water, I was waiting in line at the local auto parts store. I began to envy the clerks behind the counter that if nothing else, at least felt physically normal. They had probably eaten breakfast and lunch of some sort. It was hard to remember why I was inflicting this hell upon myself. I was weak, I was hungry, but most of all, I wanted to feel normal.
Being a full-time Missionary and choosing to live financially by faith and the giving of others, means many times of great want. Our needs are always provided for, just not always in ways we desire. As I walked through the crowds at church one night to pick up my children from their classes, I found myself envious of those around me with spare money in their wallets and in their purses. I heard some talk of going out to eat after the service. Here and there I heard some talk about Christmas presents or enrollment fees for some after school program. I wanted to feel normal.
In our “feel good” society everything imaginable has been invented to avoid any discomfort or displeasure. As these devices and distractions are stripped away and I’m left to face the blackest dark of the night I often feel like a raw piece of meat. Like the skin of my feelings has been stripped away, leaving my muscles and tendons to endure the cold wind and the assorted flying debris without any protection. And as I feel this unimaginable pain, the realization comes upon me, that it cannot get any worse.
I may lose my house. I may lose all of my possessions. I may lose everything I’ve worked so hard for my whole life. However, in the end, though bruised and battered by the enemy I can throw myself at the feet of the Lord and finally say without hesitation, “Have it all. Do with me whatever you will. Use me for the everlasting glory of Your Kingdom.”