“Try this! It is dis-gusting!”
For the life of me I do not understand why my husband does not like this game.
All I want is for him to experience what I am so that he is able to join me in my repulsion.
Is that too much to ask of someone who loves me?
We all do it, the longing for camaraderie that comes with a shared experience;
whether it comes from swapping birthing experiences, the gruesomeness of a sickness or car accident or Wal Mart escapades. The more disgusting, frightening, or hellish the story, having someone to corroborate– or even elevate– it brings a certain validation to how you felt. Otherwise, what happens is people who have no idea what you went through will just nod and smile, lessening your life-change with their lack of empathy.
Obviously, the things we go through we do in essence go through alone because no two experiences are alike. Our thresholds for pain, the foundations of how we grew up, our health/fitness level, emotional filters etc. all create a sort of fork in the road in the land of shared experience. So although our outcomes may be similar, they won’t be exactly alike.
Like the Plinko game in Price is Right. Each person is given the same pieces on the same board, but depending on how the pieces bounce around and fall, you may be a winner or loser. Please don’t take what I said and make a theology based out of it, or try to extrapolate whether I am a Calvinist or Arminian. I am speaking more simple than that.
For example, my son Caleb had a terrible experience after eating ghost pepper salsa, but my niece’s boyfriend, who is a chef, had built up a tolerance thereby rendering him a different outcome. Does that lessen how terrible Caleb felt? Technically, no. But to everyone around it appeared that Caleb was weaker than Corey. When, in fact, Corey has just developed his palette differently.
The question is:
Do we need to have the same experience to be a comfort to someone or to understand their pain?
Intellectually I am sure that you all would agree that the answer to that would be a resounding NO. However, let me ask you this. . . How many of you have seen someone you love, or know, in some kind of physical, emotional, or spiritual pain and you fear you cannot relate? Therefore, you shrink back and pray for others, or maybe the Holy Spirit, to step up. I mean, I have done this. You feel less than qualified to be a voice in their lives. This is when we usually push our pastors , counselors, “wisest of the wise” forward and then pat ourselves on the back for “helping.” Although, there are times that is the right call, don’t downplay the impact of the role you can play by just showing up.
In fact, I have a very current story being played out in front of me as I am writing.
A few weeks ago, I had to have both my big toes operated on. Basically, the doctor took them both out, cut them in half and shortened them, then put them back after re-shaping them. The pain was excruciating. For 10 days I had to walk on my heels while my stitches strained against my skin. Much like pushing against barbed wire. My editor referred to my toes as Frankentoe I&II. Now, I must walk like a 8 month pregnant woman, praying for some relief. The recovery will be long, and my spirits are low.
Lack of sleep, crazy train hormones, and immobility coupled with seeing my household fall into disarray has hacked at me.
Although few people could identify with my particular pain of Frankentoe I & II , people who understand pain have showed up. I am humbled to say there are three friends from church, at this very moment, cleaning my home. These ladies have faced their challenges. Cancer, sudden death of a spouse etc. are their resume. Cleaning my toilets and dog hair riddin floors is not beneath them because they know what it is like to not be able to control their environment. They understand the correlation between a clean home and inner peace. Most of all, they want to live the quote, “Work is love made visible.”
They know the brokenness that comes hand in hand with suffering. So, they did not need to need to feel broken toes to love me in a tangible way. They just showed up.
“Make a connection through your pain and share hope.” Spoken by my pastor Rick Blythe. “Grow in wisdom and awareness.”
Ministry does not always happen at the altar, or in the church office. It can happen while taking an unexpected Jeep ride, at the movies, on a walk, holding someone’s hand, giving a lift, while babysitting, over coffee, eating a casserole, or chasing dog hair tumbleweeds. What qualifies you to reach out is your own testimony.
Our testimony is not a competition in who had a rougher time, but a chance for us to show each other the redemption in or stories.
Even if you can’t say the comforting words of “me too”` ~ show up
*I want to clarify one thing , and I will use the words of my seven-year-old Eli to say it. “Mom, I know you are hurt, but God understands.”
