The gift of pain (if you know, you know)

Grief outbound of loss is a twilight zone of love and life gone wrong, one’s reality interminably gone, replaced with an untenably painful experience of sheer uncertainty — because we’re without what was.  

What you really want, vanquished. 
Nothing but shards, wonderful memories
dispatched as memories now too hard to bear. 
One shut-out of one’s own life — the way it was. 
Forced to ‘embrace’ a life we would never choose.

There are choices, of course, like denying the new reality, but doing that is to deny oneself.  

Some people try denial and it seems to be the way for them, but denying one’s reality leads to the loss of self, and the hardest of all is facing terminal regret too late to reconcile.  Others cannot contemplate that.  They would rather die than deny.  That proves to be the only wise choice — to face one’s pain, one facing at a time; to endure the painful journey to healing.  

Birds of a feather flock together, they say, and those given to the all-consuming world of loss and grief are estranged to those who haven’t suffered such an existential ignominy.  

But loss and grief are potential
destinations for any and all of us.

Those given to loss and grief find great commonality with those who face the execution of the old life.  

I do say ‘face’ — as in, present tense — for that is the reality; an ongoing sense of personal privation as in life becomes a parallel universe where what we THINK are peace, hope and joy — better put, this world’s comfort — are vaporised in a flash.  

Yet, therein lay an utter paradox — peace, hope and joy are BIRTHED from such a place of privation.  From time spent in the darkest pit valley, with God beside, the lofty mountain grandeur cherished for what it was and we hope it will be again — for, we cannot stop hoping.

Indeed, in deepest pain was God’s presence found.  It wasn’t a pretty experience.  There was a sodden pillow, a night full of tears.  The loneliest period of our lives.  Yet, God was found there.  As we looked back upon the presence of God that carried us through.

God was there, in the mire of it, and God was there each step as we looked back.  This is why we’re encouraged when we find a fellow sojourner, one whose face lights up when they SEE we’re kin.

If you know, you know.  It’s not like we cherish this ‘club’ as exclusivist.  We feel sorry for those who find themselves stuck in this liminal space.  But we’re nonetheless connected to and with them.  And we realise together, that if this cannot crush us, nothing can.

The MOST painful reality for those who know, is not being part of the grief but apart from it, like they’re convinced it needs to be touched.  

Because we cannot deny the pain,
it’s better to touch the wound and
endeavour to heal it than leave it fester.

If you know, you know, and there is
comfort in being with those who do.

There is certainly pain in some or many circumstances with those who have no idea — who don’t know — the worst of it, a lack of empathy or emotional and spiritual bypassing.

What suffering teaches us is we
have the opportunity of response;
an opportunity that can’t be ignored,
which is actually a choice:
accept the pain or become embittered by it.

To shake our fist at suffering or God or anything good — to become lost in bitterness — doesn’t shift anything.  Yet, the cross of Christ remains an indelible witness of God’s intimacy with suffering.  

God understands the conundrum of suffering.

God actually understands.  The doctor that met us with tears when he announced our baby was terminally ill gave us all we needed at the time.  We just need to be understood.  

When I believe in God, I subscribe in faith to the concept of judgement, of reconciliation of all things.  The truth will be revealed.  Compensation will be made.  And even though I cannot say for certain these things will happen, it gives me enormous peace, hope and joy to trust a good God.

The answer of God isn’t just the death of Jesus on the cross — it’s the resurrection of Christ.  

Even though we needed Christ on the cross for our redemption, God didn’t stay dead, and the nature of the resurrection — if you look closely enough — is the nature of life.

Suffering teaches us we have no security
other than salvation.  And when we receive it,
we recognise that’s only the security we’ll ever need. 

Has God got no answer for suffering in this world?
Suffering is the vehicle to understanding God’s answer.
That answer is the cross and resurrection of Christ.

Recovery of hope,
reconciliation of peace,
reception of joy.  

Grief forces us through the narrow gate.

Relational Wisdom Speaking Truth in Love

Where Christian spirituality and emotional intelligence (EQ) merge is in speaking truth in love.  The Apostle Paul (Ephesians 4:15) can be credited with situating this relational wisdom in the realm of faith.

As a peacemaking trainer and mediator using PeaceWise principles, all of Christian living in terms of relationships is grounded in this concept.  

Our task in conflict is
to speak the truth in love,
God’s job is to change hearts
(including our own).

But speaking the truth in love is the hardest thing to achieve because we must first attain knowledge of the truth, then have the courage to speak the truth with the humility of loving (and listening to) others, often with opposing views.  

The first requirement is having the wisdom of discerning the truth properly.  The second requirement is the character to balance courage in action with humility of poise.  To speak truth it must BE truth.  In the milieu of relationship, it must be a truth that others are capable of seeing as truth, too.  

Speaking truth to power in wisdom
involves humility brokered in love.

Pairing the courage of speaking a discerned truth with the kindness, gentleness, patience — common (or uncommon) grace — which is love, which of these is most challenging?  Both are!

It is hard to discern truth and then have the courage to speak it.

It is hard to execute relational self-control, especially when we’re passionate about the truth, or we’re motivated by seeking justice or righting injustice.

Which is harder?  Does it matter?  Both are challenging, and anyone who thinks they aren’t could be dangerous in relational settings.  It’s too easy for any of us to think we’ve got the market cornered in speaking truth or loving people, and especially combining the two.

Speaking the truth in love
is the quintessence of relational wisdom.

The more we revere the spiritual maturity required and respect the emotional intelligence needed, the closer we come to speaking the truth in love.  

Carrying the Peace called Sabbath-Rest

I don’t know a sensible person who doesn’t want peace, or more exactly, more peace.  Some call it happiness, others contentment, but it’s best referred to as peace — that sense of satisfied wholeness and quiet enjoyment wherever life’s at, whatever we’re doing.

Ever since I wrote this in 2010, I have believed it’s possible to carry this peace called, Sabbath-Rest.  This Sabbath-Rest transcends concepts related to a day-off-per-week.  Its realisation in us, its practice in life, is an extraordinary experience and gift.  

But the challenge of life is it’s inevitably devoid of peace.  Whether it’s frustrations with things not going our way, the relentlessness of life, or dreams not working out as we’ve desired, our default way is a life without peace.  Not to mention the pain of grief or trauma we may carry that can and does easily overwhelm all sense of serene spirituality at different times.

This is why we need a peace within
that comes from outside ourselves.

A peace that comes from God.

So what is this Sabbath-Rest peace?  

Knowing and appreciating the price of grace, thankful for a thing that we could not do for ourselves, we gaze heavenward and smile despite our circumstances, for the distinct possibility of gratitude.

Gratitude is a thing we can carry with us, despite our circumstances.

An unanxious presence we can practice, despite our circumstances.  

Perhaps these things are not perfected, but we make progress toward them.

These are practical considerations that are further underpinned by a theological foundation — that each of us HAS, as in we possess, everything we could ever want or need — no matter our life circumstances.  

The basis here is we have been found
wholly worthy of our Maker’s love.  

Even though we may so often feel we’re unworthy, we are ascribed the perfect and incorruptible worth of God because of Jesus.  

The interesting thing about concepts of self-worth is the more worthy we may pretend we are, the more we lie to ourselves.  Supreme self-worth cannot come from inside us as something we produce; too much of our lives attest to the opposite truth — people’s unkindness, just for one instance.  Caring people cannot help feel THEY themselves, personally, are the problem — “Somehow I must not be worthy of their kindness.”  Or the opposite problem rises up in us: “How dare they!”  In our anger we may remind others how ‘unworthy’ they are!  And the unfair treatment we receive or mete out makes anxiety rise up, conflicts abound, and that stress when unmanaged makes our lives worse.

Once we fully absorb the truth of our innate worth in God, we begin to be able to access the Sabbath-Rest, which is peace we’ve never had, a peace that can be carried, as we think, say and do right things by faith. 

Negating what the psychologists call cognitive dissonance, our actions align with our inner value set.  Everyone with a conscience judges themselves.  When we think, say and do right things by faith, feeling a sense of worth from God, our worth increases because our right thoughts, words and actions please God, and we FEEL His pleasure.  The more we live like this, the better our relationships form and grow.

All this is foundational, and still carrying a Sabbath-Rest with us is a choice, a practice, an ever-present opportunity that requires intentionality to enter and remain in, just as Jesus says, “Remain in Me” (John 15).

Still what is intrinsically foundational in carrying the Sabbath-Rest with us is centred beautifully in verses like Philippians 3:10-11, as Paul says:

“I want to know Christ — yes, to know the power of His resurrection and participation in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead.”

This certainly speaks of an unspeakably good eternal rest for those in Jesus.  But it is more, much more.  These words herald the essence of Christian faith itself — how to think, say and do right things by faith.

We all want to live with power, and the foundation of this power, I would argue, is peace — living in harmony with one’s life, the people in one’s life, accepting the things we cannot change, speaking truth in love, indwelt with joy and hope.

Where this all makes sense is in this concept.  When our expectations for ourselves and our lives have been met at the cross, when we have no other bargaining to do with God other than to say, “Thank you for giving me all I need in salvation.”  Everything else is a bonus.  This is what I think Paul was getting at in Philippians.

As Christians, our expectation is death, for when we were apart from God we were dead in our sins.  We felt hopeless and peace felt a hell of eternities away.  As we face death to our worldly desires, there we find life in Christ.

This new life we have in Christ comes with
a Sabbath-Rest that we carry with us.

The Sabbath-Rest is thinking, saying and doing right things.  

An example of this is we refuse to covet things greedily, we abandon lust, we repent of our anger, we identify and dispose of our biases a moment at a time, we overcome our sloth, and we cease envying.  Importantly, we cannot do the things in the preceding sentence without a heart like Paul’s who said in desperation:

“I want to KNOW Christ.” 
It is ALL he wanted.  

The more we give up what we cannot keep,
the more we stand to gain what cannot be lost.

Our salvation cannot be lost, and
everything we would want comes from it.

Resurrection power comes from happily
approaching and enduring our crosses.

The meaning of life is opposite to what we think, folks!

Give up what you cannot keep and
you will gain what you cannot lose.

“Consider it pure joy, when you face trials of many kinds”

“It works when you work it.”

This is a truth from AA I learned is always true.  It speaks to faith.  And simplest put, faith works.

One of the incredible things about the Bible is some of the things written in it.  Astounding things.  Think on this one: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds…” (James 1:2)

Pure joy… when facing trials… of many kinds.

Not ‘if’ but WHEN.

It’s an absolute absurdity, the receipt of joy when we are otherwise defeated.  Absurd perhaps but nonetheless true, situational on the moment’s turning.  Conditional upon the joy is the acceptance of defeat.  In other words, it’s only when we admit we cannot control what we feel we need to control that we gain access to a hope that feeds joy and peace.  As Oswald Chambers put it, it’s ‘strength for the minute.’

We don’t receive joy in the pit of our ongoing misery.  Only as we die to ourselves, only as our dreams die for a bigger goal.  The goal is tomorrow.  It is the horizon.  A hope; that’s hope.  

Hope has a way of carrying us over the thresholds
of the disasters that would otherwise destroy us.  

“Later on,” Hebrews 12:11 says, we receive a “harvest of righteousness and peace.”  Later on, we’re vindicated.

I think of the times of my deepest pain, seasons that lasted months, even a year or three, seasons that were unrelenting in their tyranny, yet seasons where hope carried me.  Hope beyond the horizon—faith to step fuelled by hope.

Those seasons I would not have gotten through without faith in Jesus, seasons so replete with suffering, day after day of fear, periods so punctuated with all kinds of grief, times fully defined by despair—yet with a choice each day, to turn toward Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith, a moment’s hope is an ever present option.

When I’m suffering the typical bouts of fear and doubt symptomatic in hardships and trials, it can seem impossible to make the choice for joy; but as soon as I turn toward Jesus, in that same action I’m reminded I cannot control the situation I’m in other than to accept what I cannot change and have faith through it.  A smile can form even as I face the truth of my pain; a teary smile so many times.  

There is joy because the Bible says it’s possible. 
Believe it’s possible and suddenly belief turns to reality.

There is one clear thing about, “Consider it pure joy… whenever you face trials of many kinds…”  We know in our humanity that we cannot maintain it without continually turning back to our Christ.  Nobody could maintain such an adroit relationship with suffering other than Jesus, Himself.  But as disciples we’re committed to following the way Jesus lived.

The purest joy is knowing what Jesus
has done for each and every one of us.

It’s the purest joy to know
it’s possible to follow Him.

One last thing I’m learning.  Trials still come even when we’re in the seeming best periods of our lives.  Such is the average human life.