PAIN

In the darkness, I can still hear the moaning, as she rolls over to relieve the pain in her shoulder. But, now she is forced to sleep on her bad hip, injured in a car wreck four decades ago.   An old injury competes with in old age joint problem for Relief, even if temporary, from pain. My hand, lovingly placed on her arm, is brushed away with a grimace of pain.

" let her sleep," I think to myself. Some nights, I asked heaven to transfer her pain to me. Tonight, I beg, " take away her pain. You can, if you will...".  Then insomniac theology takes over and I begin to muse, " through suffering he learned obedience... We must all suffer to enter the Kingdom...". Then my thoughts turn to " three score and ten... tick, tock... time is ticking away... I hear her blessed grandfather clock chiming the quarter hour..."

I must go back to sleep. I have to go to work tomorrow, and probably the delayed, lime kiln outage will be rescheduled?! Morbidly, I wonder if I will be alone for the last few miles.  Will we walk across the finish line, holding hands? Or, will she finish first and be waiting at the Finish Line smiling at me as I come into view on the last lap?  " Lord, just leave her here, and I will push her to the Finish Line in a wheelchair!" is my thought, as I am drifting off to sleep.  

"... no more pain...". Is the thought floating by as I drift off.  Jesus reminds me of his promise, written by John, of the new Heaven and new earth! I can see the hissing demons named death and pain being driven back to their pit!

ANSWERLESS-QUESTIONS and WHAT-IFS

ANSWERLESS-QUESTIONS and WHAT-IFS

Why do we torture ourselves with AQ’s and WI’s (answerless questions and what-ifs)?!  And, then there are also PA’s (pat-answers – [why do they call them “pat” answers?]) that are applied, as some sort of “dollar store salves” on some egregious “cancer”, hoping to find relief from the pain!

Life, in this messed-up world, is far from perfect?!  Sand has been kicked into the gears and His precision machine lurches and grinds along, for now.  When there is a bump, or a thud, or even a Wheel that comes off, we ask, even implore, “WHY?!”  We want answers.  Life needs to make sense.  We find ourselves off-balance, stumbling around, in the dark.  “… why did she leave me …?”  “…shy did my baby have to die …?!”  “… I thought that I would retire from that job; why did my job go away …?”  on and on …

Next (or, maybe first for tender hearts) we begin to wonder what we did wrong!  “… was there some sin?   … that is why I am being punished?!”  “ … if only I had (done something else) …?!”  “… if I had gone straight rather than turning …?!”  “… if only I had prayed more, more seriously, more often …”  what if … what if …

God above must have a tear tracing down his cheek.  To the patriarch, Job, came “friends” whom the Lord eventually muted with the accusing “…“Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?”  (Job 38:2)  People mean well, I guess;  but, an open ear and shut mouth are often the best medicine for what ails another.  “… God has a plan …”  “… time heals all …”  -- Agh!  The Snake comes to kill, still, and destroy!  The Lamb of God came to give us life!  Abundant life!  There are hard theological questions, maybe some with no answers, at least not easy answers.   

Ironically, as I sit here writing this, little Hannah mumbles, “… why did the baby have to die?”  I do not know.   She is knee deep in an I-Pad game, but her five year old heart asks a fathomless question.  Now she is giggling as she watches her brother play another video game.  “… we will get through this …” (with Heaven’s help)

“God help us.”

JACOB'S LIMP

JACOB’S LIMP

“Boys, tomorrow you get to meet your grandfather, my dad!  I have not seen him in years, since before you two were even born.  Aren’t you excited?!”

“Father, we are not like them.  You have told us stories about their being shepherds.  Will they smell like animals?  Will they talk like the strange words you have taught us from your past?  Will they dress like sheep-herders?! …”

“Boys, I have not seen him, for years; but, you will love him.  His name is Jacob, but call him ‘Is-ra-el’, which means ‘Prince of God’!  He is surely now only older and wiser!  He loved me so … and he will love you too!  Now, go to bed and say your prayers!”

“Get up boys!  Today is the day!  We will go out to meet their caravan; my whole family is nearly here!”

“Ephraim, why is dad running on ahead of us?”

“I do not know, Manasseh; but, look now?!  That must be his father, Jacob.  They are hugging and kissing and wailing and crying …?!  I have never seen our dad, the governor, act like this?!  It is nearly embarrassing!

“Ephraim, do you smell them?”

“And, who are these two fine boys?  They remind me of little Joseph and Benjamin!”

“Father, these are your grandsons, Manasseh and Ephraim.  You shall have to get to know them better after you rest from your trip…”

“Mama, we met dad’s father today.  What do you think about them?  The old man smells; and, he does not shave.  And, he walks funny, with a limp?  And dad wants us to call him ‘Is-ra-el’.  He said it means ‘prince of god’?!  he sure does not look nor act like your dad, the high priest of Rah?!”

“Boys, we believe in El Shaddai, God Almighty, God Most High!  Your dad’s great-grandfather, Abraham, talked with Him!  Your dad has told you many stories.  But, he has not told you of the limp, nor the nickname, ‘Israel’.  Tomorrow, you shall ask him about these things!”

“Well, boys, yesterday was a big day.  Many things will change for us!  This is your family!  It will be a struggle; but, now you can live the stories, not just listen to them!”

“Dad, mom said that we should ask you about your dad’s name and his limp…”

“She did?!  She always smiled when I retold her that story … sons, basically, the story is this – often we learn best from what hurts us the most!  Many things in life will hurt us; but, they will teach us, bot only if we really listen, instead of cussing and fussing.”

“But, dad, what has that got to do with grandfather limping?!  And, his other name, ‘Is-ra-el’…?”

“O.K. boys – we must wrestle with God, but we will always win, only by losing!  Is that any clearer?!  Life’s defeats will be our greatest victories.  Slavery will produce deliverance.  Your grandfather wrestled with God’s angel, and lost, lost his use of a good leg, but gained a good name, ‘Prince of God”!  We, too, must wrestle with God.  When you see your grandfather limping, remember him wrestling with God … I know that He has had me in a few headlocks!”

THORNS

THORNS

“damn!” she winced, as her finger I stuck.

Is she  just so careless, or is it only bad luck?

“there’s no good reason for them to exist;

If they were gone, they’d never be missed!”

Brought on by your foolishness, a sign of the “Curse”;

Without us was Eden, long ago, back at the first.

Our presence is only doomed to cause pain.

You ask why we’re here; You need someone to explain?!

Surely you remember the ancient story of Adam and Eve;

And, how from the Garden, you were made to leave.

It was then that the Maker cursed the ground.

And since then, man has always had us around.

Then, another, the Second, left from his throne.

He took on your sins; He made them his own!

With intent to hurt, they angrily plaited a crown,

From the first thing they saw when they looked around.

With calloused heart and hands, into our brambles they did reach,

for Christ’s cursed crown, proudly and defiantly worn for you each.

Surely emeralds and gold belonged on His head?!

But, us -- damned, pointed thorns -- he gladly wore, instead.

So, on that black Friday, He redeemed all of you.

And, maybe, just maybe, that spiny halo, He bought back too?!

Upon the brow of the “man of sorrows” we first brought the crimson flow,

That washes away your sins, and, thank God, makes you “whiter than snow”!

No longer doomed, to be only the source of pain for your sinful rages;

But, also we’re given a place of honor, forever, in the “Story of the Ages”!

She Cuts Herself!

She Cuts Herself!

          At first she brooded sullenly, feeling backed into a corner, away from the light of day and the joy of laughter.  Frustration, futility, hopelessness, then anger, vengeance, violence took over her mind.  She stepped back, shocked, briefly; but then it all turned inward.  This is how she got here.  He really cut her.

Jack and George just gave her a headache.  What would reassure her that she was still alive?  Her mother’s words just fell on deaf ears.  She could not even feel the pain anymore.  It started with a nagging paper cut!  Most of the new stimuli were hidden.  But, maybe she wanted to be found out?

“But, I bleed!  That proves I am.”  The excitement did not last.  She could pretend the pain is pleasure.  Such a liar!  She almost believes it, though.  But, I can remember real love.  The cuts are not caresses.  But what else do I have.  She does not like what she sees in the mirror.   And, the blues bring on the blood-letting.  In goes the gloom, and out comes the razor.

At a coffee-shop, from across the room, comes a tender glance.  “But, surely he knows how messed-up I am?!”  She looks back, and he’s gone.  She exits to the “ladies” room and opens her purse.  “Dammit, I have done it again!”  She unrolls the t.p. to stop the bleeding.  She hates herself.  Surely, everybody else does, also?!  People stare at her leaving.  “You people have no idea ... !!”

Nobody wants me.  Nobody needs me.  They will not use me, again.  I’ll make sure of that.  The scars will repel them.  I may slash a big one -- across my face?!  Everybody sucks.

Mama, can you hear me?  Don’t hang up.  I need to talk to you.  It … is … no … good.  Can I, please, come home?  I miss you, so much.

God, help us!