Hope Amidst the Pain

Mitchell, Brody, Shannon, and Shelby,

Paul encouraged people to find joy in the midst of suffering, and I know a lot of Christians who think that they're following that advice.  I remember telling someone that I was suffering from depression, though, and at first I was happy and encouraged with her response.  "You have Jesus!  Jesus heals everything!"

I so wanted to be that kind of Christian.  I so wanted to be that guy who had so much faith in God that I could persevere in the midst of suffering.

Then someone else, shortly thereafter, condemned me for the depression that I couldn't quite shrug off.  He saw me sitting in my chair, looking forlorn and contemplative, thinking about something that was burdening me.  He went up and told me that after all God's done for me, and what with all that He's doing for me, and what with how big He is, that my depression was a sign that I was doubting Him, that I didn't love Him enough, that I was holding out on Him.

Then, of course, I come across the "sadder than thou" argument.  That's what I call it, and I've called it that for nearly three years now.  Someone inevitably looks at what you're going through and says "Oh yeah?  Well I went through these extenuating circumstances!  I'm not letting it get to me!"

That's good, except I'm not them.  And that fact is, regardless of how difficult my circumstances are, it's about how I feel.  And I'm just going to outright say, the things that have happened in my life are often times sad.  They're not merely "negative."  That's an impersonal word that use to describe sad things.  It's up close and personal, though, and I've seen sad things happen.  Even when Christ is in my life, that doesn't necessarily change the basic nature of the unfortunate, sad things that have happened, and I feel like the only human reaction, if I were truly compassionate at all, would be to feel pain when dealing with the loss that I've had.

I mean, Mitchell, I am never going to tell you to get over that death in the family a few years back.  That would be inhumane and cruel.  

So this is what it feels like when people tell me that because Jesus died for me, that I should never feel sad no matter how bad the circumstances:

Because a true Christian can handle suffering and not be overwhelmed.  Because a true Christian prays and realizes that it's all okay.  Because suffering is, apparently, nothing more than mere discomfort.

I hate this poster.

Shannon, you wrote an entry about the terrible irony and insensitivity of Psalm 23, and while I don't feel that way about the psalm in and of itself, I complete agree with the point.  I hate it that when someone suffers, we try to tell them that they're not suffering, and that it's somehow an illusion.

I've said it before in longer, more extensive dialogue that I think Jesus gives us strength in the midst of our suffering not by making it go away, but by suffering with us and validating that pain.

Otherwise, I feel that those "Oh yeah!  Hallelujah!" Christians equate suffering with bad circumstances.  "Be cheerful and abundant even in bad circumstances!"  The worse that bad circumstances can do is make you uncomfortable, after all.  Except, of course, if the bad circumstances don't actually make you personally suffer and actually experience suffering, then those circumstances aren't suffering, aren't they?

Suffering is something you actually experience.  You're in agony and despair.  Because something is wrong, and it doesn't matter how wrong, because at the end of the day wrong is wrong is wrong.  You have the explicit right to feel cursed when you're part of a cursed Creation.  It would actually be unhealthy if you didn't, because then you'd be numb to pain and unable to protect yourself from evil.  You wouldn't have any compassion.

I knew someone once who thought she was cheerful.  She was the person who told me that I had Jesus, and that I didn't need my anti-depression pills to help me with my condition.  I remember asking her if she ever cried, and she told me that she never felt sad because she didn't need to, because of Jesus.  Furthermore, she even told me that she never even felt sad even when her loved ones died.  Even then, as much as I had tried putting faith in her, I didn't think of this as strength.  It was cowardice.  She wasn't really that cheerful or happy, not deep down inside.  It was more of a well-practiced generally positive attitude.  Good manners, decent behavior, no sign of any imbalances.  But it was poison to me.

So I...I walked away and I didn't go back to it.

What do I have now?  How can I possibly deal with this pain that doesn't seem to go away?  This pain that a positive outlook doesn't really fix?  People want me to be cheerful.

What is cheerfulness, anyway?

That's actually a pretty big question to ask, now that I think about it.  I looked up "Bible verses having to do with cheerfulness" and none of them quite give me that "Hallelujah" vibe.  Some of them didn't actually even mention cheerfulness at all, and instead talked about courage and patience.  Some of them refer to joyfulness.  In any case, I'm never quite given the impression that Paul is referring to Christians as happy paupers with billy sacks waltzing their merry Matilda down the countryside and whistling tunes like "The Bare Necessities" and "Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Da".  That's the image that I sometimes think comes to the mind of most people: That circumstances might be bad, but if you're cheerful, you're going to handle it like a Disney character.  There's something cute and colorful and innocent about that word.

If you want my opinion on what cheerfulness looks like, though, I think it comes in the form of hope.  There may be tears in this lifetime, but I think that God gives us hope for what is promised to us, that which we do not yet have.  I think that it gives us strength, and that's how we deal with suffering.  We don't necessarily leave our suffering or escape from it, but it allows us to live even as death curses all the little nooks and crannies in our lives.

I think that it's hope that allows us to cry, too.  Have you ever noticed that sometimes, when we're hurting the most, that crying is the healthiest response?  Like it comforts us without insulting us?  I imagine that God's the type that lets us, when we're absolutely broken and don't know how to handle anything, to grieve for our injuries and losses, and to run to Him and dig out faces into His chest, and we just cry and cry and cry.  He doesn't tell us to get it all together, and He just holds us and He's there.

If there's anything that God doesn't want us to do, it's become bitter.  We get fed up, we've been broken enough, and we begin to embrace the pain in a way that's very different from tears, and it's bitterness.  I can't recommend that, and I think it's unhealthy, but out of compassion, I find it hard to condemn anyone for that.  The fact is, I know.  I know it's hard.  I'm bitter, too, about a lot of things, and I wish I wasn't.

Have hope, though.  Faith can sometimes be difficult, but please, please, please, please, please, please, please...always have hope.  Hope is easy.  Hope you can always have.  Hope is composed of tears, and it comes just as naturally if we don't hold ourselves back.

Sincerely,

John Hooyer