Pain...

…is one of those things that you really don’t like to put a lot of thought to, or at least have occasion to ponder because, well, you are in it. Interestingly, the concept of pain and its place in my life has allllmost surfaced from time to time, but it has never exposed itself to the air in a way for me to fully focus on anything other than avoiding it or reducing it, always bubbling like trapped air in a thick goo…

…it just popped…

I have a recurring injury to my foot; a cut, fissure, gash, whatever you want to call it. I have had it for many years…so many that I don’t remember its origin. I do know that it is exacerbated when I wear sandals for an extended period of time. When it does rear its ugly head, it causes me to walk in a way that puts pressure on other parts of my foot in an unnatural way. As a result, I have tendonitis in my ankle. One small injury has resulted in a far greater, invasive one. It hurts to walk…it hurts to sit…it hurts to move. Forget walking from gate B 38 to gate A 7. For now, this pain is omnipresent. I am sure I will heal, and I am sure that life will go normally, after a brief intermission.

I share this not to illicit sympathy, but simply to provide the framework of my ponderings. I know, for instance, that there is pain that my body craves. When I get the chance to work out, to push my body, the aftermath is a craving. My body craves the extension of itself, to remember the places it went when I was young and foolish. My youth claimed a toll on my body. Sports certainly took its pound of flesh. The activity of being a boy, falling off logs, bikes, and if you ask my kids, the turnip truck too many times, placed their own scars, real and psychic. My adult years however, have seen the waxing and waning of activity, and my body has responded in the appropriate way…I’ve put on too much weight, gotten out of shape, and seen my activity level decline. But my body remembers…it remembers the feelings of impact, the sense of falling, the exquisite pain from physical exhaustion. And it desires a return to those comfortable, yet painful places.

I have noticed that there are different types of pain, and have been given my own insight into how these physical pains relate to life in general, and our situation in particular, my love. Pain that is the result of an injection, for instance, flares with white hot intensity, but for just a blink of the eye. The resultant pain reminds us of the injustice done to our skin, but fades quickly, promising to disappear sooner or later. We have that promise that the pain will subside….it always has, and we know that the worst pain is passed. The pain that I fear, my love, is the pain that I have in my ankle now…starting as a small, distant irritant, growing, swelling, expanding not unlike the never-ending waves buffeting the coast, immobilizing me. My fear is not of the present pain, but the uncertainty of where the pain will end. As it grows, my fear grows. Where will the apex be? You have been the salve for this pain, dear, but where will it end? This, more than any, is the reason I feel my faith tested about this. I keep reminding myself that God can do anything, through me, and that he will provide my body with the strength necessary to see this through. I know there will be pain involved, but my prayer is that the pain we allow, we embrace, will result in a greater future than we could ever imagine. Stay with me, my love….stay with me and see this pain resolved…and never forget…I love you…even through the greatest pain.