In the Face of Suffering

Most of today’s news reports included breaking details of the Boston bombings. One interview I heard featured a psychologist named Jeff Greenberg whose specialty is studying people who’ve been forced (by events) to face their own mortality. It might be a terminal disease or something like the 9/11 attacks… or the bombs at Monday’s Boston Marathon.

This morning he said, “When these things happen, it reminds you of the fragility of life, and that death is something that can happen very suddenly and unexpectedly.”

Boston Marathon bomb

He detailed specific, predictable thought patterns people have as they try to cope with what just happened. One of the first things everybody thinks is, “How vulnerable am I?” This goes for those in the Boston area as well as the rest of us who’ve been following them on national news.

Immediately after the question about vulnerability, Mr. Greenberg says we move into firm mental denial: “Most likely I’m safe.”

We might begin blanketing our heightened concerns with a new level of attempted control: locking our doors more carefully, driving with greater care, avoiding crowds, gathering supplies for emergencies. By putting safety measures in place, we’re trying to make sure nothing unexpected gets to us. We think, “Because I’m proactive, I’ll always be safe.”

In the light of day and with intelligent thought, however, we know this isn’t true. None of us are immune to adversity.

This morning I also heard the story of two brothers and their friend, a trio of pals waiting together near the marathon finish line. After the explosions, the brothers had each lost one leg, and their friend had lost both. Their anguish must have been crushing, and the agonies ahead for all three of them can’t even be estimated.

Yet as the newscaster reported, once these young men were in the hospital, they were far more concerned about the welfare of each other than themselves. During the weeks and months to come, they’ll be cheering each other on while trying to share the burdens of their buddies, rejoicing together at every recovery milestone. Their futures will be different from their pasts, but the prognosis for all three is bright, partly because they have each other.

God wants to partner that same way with every person injured during the bombings. He offers himself as encourager, sustainer, leader, and friend. His desire is to “stick closer than a brother.” (Proverbs 18:24) Not one of those injured on Monday needs to suffer through recovery alone after an offer like that.

Honoring the victimsJeff Greenberg described how people become newly sensitive to their belief systems whenever they “look death in the face.” Monday’s bombings are another reminder, he says, that death is coming, and there’s no way around it.

Because of that, isn’t this the perfect time to say yes to God?

“After you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.” (1 Peter 5:10)

Stop the bleeding.

Sharp!Baby Emerald was injured this week. As Birgitta and I were bent over an old photo album with her sitting between us, in a flash she’d stuck her finger in a Coke can and sliced it on the opening. Birgitta tried to hold a Kleenex on her tiny finger, but Emerald was quick to yank it away, and blood began dotting the clothes on both of them.

To speed the clotting process, we chipped some ice and put it in a baggie, but holding it next to her petite finger proved impossible. The only thing to do was bandage it tight, despite the smallest Band-Aid being far too big. As the bleeding continued, we taped two fingers together, placing one bandage over the tops and another around the knuckles, but immediately Emerald put both fingers in her mouth. Choking on a bandage would only compound our problems.

Emerald's wound

We decided to put Emerald in her front pack and take a walk while Birgitta held onto her hand, giving the wound a chance to seal. But every so often she’d yank it away and shove her fingers into her mouth. Her powerful baby-sucking, even for a few seconds, increased the bleeding, and her Band-Aids quickly soaked with fresh blood.

Our last idea was to find a shirt that was too big for her, pull the sleeve over her hand, and pin it closed. But as we watched, the sleeve and safety pin went right to her mouth. Choking on a pin would be even worse than on a Band-Aid.

The sleeve remedy

Meanwhile Emerald kept bleeding. So I got my sewing kit, and while Birgitta held her injured hand tightly, I stitched across the end of her sleeve. She immediately put the whole thing in her mouth, but after we insisted she suck her pacifier instead of her shirt, the bleeding finally stopped.

Neither of us would ever hurt Emerald intentionally, and seeing her bright blood on the tissues and clothing caused great alarm. Yet there we were, mopping up after she’d been injured in our care.

Bleeding fingers have much in common with bleeding hearts. We try to live uprightly, but then something happens that makes us “bleed.” We hurt badly and desperately want the pain to stop, so we try all kinds of remedies: surrounding ourselves with people, or isolating ourselves; going on a shopping spree, or being unwilling to leave the house; eating too much, or not eating enough; refusing to face our pain, or thinking of nothing else.

But do we take advantage of the best way to stop a bleeding heart? Right after the injury we should pour our pain out to the heavenly Father, because his healing power trumps anything we could do on our own.

As for Emerald, we removed the shirt and Band-Aids at bedtime, and healing had begun. Of course we all know who was the One behind that.

“The people all tried to touch Jesus, because power was coming from him and healing them all.” (Luke 6:19)

Broken

This morning it was a double-whammy. The heart pendant had been my Mom’s, and the gold chain had been Aunt Joyce’s. When Birgitta, Emerald, and I arrived at church, I hadn’t noticed that the necklace had slipped off. Even after today’s communion service, while brushing bread crumbs off my sweater, the necklace hadn’t crossed my mind. But when we arrived back at the car, the gold chain was hanging out of the car door, its crystal heart missing, and I remembered.

Aunt Joyce's chain

I got down on my knees to inspect the parking lot pavement under the car, behind the tires, under neighboring cars. Surely I’d find this pendant that was larger than a quarter and sparkling with flashes of light, but even back home there was no sign of it.

Mid-afternoon we decided to take a group walk with the dog, and that’s when we spotted it, on the way to the back yard to get Jack. Broken in two places, my lovely crystal heart was, indeed, sparkling in the sun, but sadly it was no longer wearable.

Broken heart

Life is full of unexpected disappointments. This one was small compared to many but was definitely an oh-bummer moment. What if the pendant had fallen to the floor one step earlier? It would have hit the soft back-door rug instead of concrete. Or, if it had slipped down just one moment later, it would have landed on the car floor mat. But it fell on that one particular footstep, which ruined it.

Isn’t that the way with many life events? After they happen, we play the what-if game, inwardly longing for a different outcome than the one we got. When we’re through with that, we move to passionate wishing by way of if-onlys, setting up scenarios of how it could have gone better than it did.

What’s wrong with thinking that way?

Several things, the first of which is that no amount of hindsight can rearrange what’s already happened. Second, focusing on what-ifs and if-onlys leads us to repeated feelings of regret and sadness. Third, getting stuck in what-might-have-been often eliminates future opportunities. And lastly, if we’ve given God charge of our lives, could it be that those things we wish hadn’t happened are the very things God wanted us to experience? And if that’s true, then shouldn’t we bear them willingly?

But that’s a tall order when it comes to accepting life’s bigger losses, whether it’s a career, a bank account, a home, a friendship, or worst of all, a person we love. But instead of what-ifs and if-onlys, the Lord wants us to consider thinking “as-is.” If he’s the one behind the events of our lives, accepting them as they are while asking him what to do next will lead to a far more satisfying result.

As for my damaged necklace, I think I’ll keep it…. as is. Even a broken crystal pendant sparkles beautifully.

“Let each person lead the life that the Lord has assigned to him, and to which God has called him.” (1 Corinthians 7:17)