If you’re not dead, God’s not done. I remember hearing Craig Groeschel speak those words a couple of years ago, and I was reminded of those words when I awoke from my open heart surgery. And yet, when the unexpected shows up, many people believe that they are done. It’s easy in that moment to let our pain become the eraser of our lives.
That raises an important point: You have to determine what to do in your pain, and what to do with your pain. It takes both (IN and WITH) to successfully navigate pain. IN our pain, we learn to trust God, gain perspective, and cultivate community. But we can’t stay IN our pain. Eventually we have to decide what to do WITH it. That’s not natural is it? Our natural tendency in pain is to look for something to protect us from it.
Pain in the Hailstorms
On May 5, 1995, Fort Worth, Texas was hit by the most severe hailstorms in its history. The storm produced softball-sized hail that literally destroyed cars, roofs, and buildings. In some cases, grapefruit-sized hail, driven by 70 mile-per-hour winds, shattered thousands of windows.
The storm stripped the leaves off of trees, and the ground looked like winter had returned. But perhaps most memorable was the havoc that storm caused as it hit Fort Worth’s outdoor Mayfest where thousands of people scrambled for cover. When it all was finished, the storm had caused over $2 billion in damage.
Like the hailstones that pelted Fort Worth, the unexpected disruptions of life pelt the comfort of our normalcy. In those moments, we run for cover and shield ourselves from the pain. But when you shield yourself from your pain, you also have to make sure you don’t shield yourself from God’s purpose that’s hidden in the pain.
Viktor Frankl’s Purpose in His Pain
Viktor Frankl, the medical doctor from Vienna, is a perfect example. In 1941, Viktor married Tilly Grosser, and in 1942 they were arrested by the Nazis, forced to abort their child, and then transported to a concentration camp.
After spending three years in various concentration camps, Viktor was finally set free on April 27, 1945. After returning to Vienna, he discovered that his wife, mother, and brother had all died.
Most people in Viktor’s situation would have huddled under the umbrella of safety and security, never to emerge from their pain. But not Viktor. In 1946, Viktor dictated his book, Man’s Search for Meaning, in only nine days. By his death in 1997, the book had sold nine million copies.
During his lifetime, Viktor Frankl wrote 39 books, received 29 honorary doctorates, and taught at four universities. How could he do so much good after experiencing so much pain? His words from Man’s Search for Meaning provides some perspective:
“Suffering ceases to be suffering in some way in the moment that it finds a meaning”
What did Viktor Frankl do? He leveraged what was (his pain) for what could be (his purpose). And so you can you. You may not see it right now, but there’s meaning hiding in the shadows of your pain. The very rocks that bruise you – the ones that are shredding your umbrella as you hide under it – hold a nugget of gold inside of them. And that leads us to this important truth to help us navigate our unexpected disruptions:
[callout]Discover and pursue God’s purpose that will outlast your pain.[/callout]
God’s brewing up a greater purpose that will outlast your pain, but He needs you to open your eyes and see it. He needs you to leverage what is for what could be. The purpose of pain is not to punish you. Regardless of the source of the pain, God wants to use your pain to accomplish a greater purpose. He wants your suffering to find meaning. Don’t waste your pain. Instead, redeem it.
The apostle Paul gives us some insight on this very issue in his letter written to the church in Rome. His wisdom is captured in one single verse when he writes:
And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. (Romans 8:28, NLT)
From this passage, we discover two truths that will help us find meaning in our suffering:
1. Pain Reveals God’s Purpose
I didn’t say that pain is God’s purpose. I said it reveals His purpose. Look again at the beginning of Romans 8:28: “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God…”
So often when pain comes rolling into our lives, we see it as nothing more than a dreadful new reality. We view it as a softball-sized hailstone meant to destroy us. But God has the amazing ability to take that stone and actually pull gold out of it. He has the capacity to take what was meant for harm and actually turn it around for good. For that to happen, we must interpret our pain through the lens of God’s purpose. Mark Batterson captured it well when he said:
“It’s not our experiences that make us or break us. It’s our interpretation of and explanation for those experiences that ultimately determines who we become. Your explanations are more important than your experiences” (Soulprint, 62-63).
That doesn’t mean that you’ll suddenly find answers to all of your questions about pain and disruption. There’s a difference between answers for your pain and purpose in your pain. Don’t let the confusion of your pain cloud the clarity of the purpose it can serve in your life.
Candy Lightner provides a good reminder of this truth. Lightner founded MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Driving) after her 13-year old daughter, Cari, was tragically killed by a drunk driver.
Cari was on her way to a church carnival in her neighborhood when a 47 year-old-man, fresh off a three-day drinking binge, plowed into Cari, tossing her body 125 feet. To Candy’s horror, the man who hit Cari had three drunk-driving convictions, and he had recently been released on bail for a hit-and-run drunk driving accident.
But in the midst of her pain, Candy found the courage to not only work through her pain, but to do something with it. She founded MADD to raise awareness, push for new legislation, and save others from the devastation of drunk driving. Candy’s response redeemed her pain for a greater purpose.
Only God is capable of using every bad pain to produce a very good purpose. That doesn’t mean it’s easy. Nor does it mean you’ll find answers for your pain. It simply means that the redemption of pain for a far bigger purpose is possible.
2. God’s Purpose Drives Our Calling
The apostle Paul continues Romans 8:28 with these words: “…and are called according to his purpose for them.” Each one of us are called by God, and that calling is born out of His purpose. For God’s purpose to outlast our pain, His purpose must drive our calling.
One night during my hospital stay, I found myself needing to get the attention of my nurse. It was the middle of the night, and I couldn’t find the call button. I patted all around on both sides of my bed, but the clicker was nowhere to be found. The door to my room was cracked, so I tried calling out to her, but I just couldn’t get her attention.
Finally, in desperation, I started looking for something I could use to make some noise. All I could find was the plastic urinal container, next to my bed, just at arm’s length. I grabbed it and began banging it against the side of the table. (Thankfully, it was empty.) Louder and louder I banged, until finally someone at the nurse’s station heard me.
When the nurse came into my room, she was mildly irritated. “Why didn’t you just push the call button? That’s what it’s for, you know.” I assured her I would much rather have simply buzzed her, but I couldn’t find my call button anywhere. She sighed, exasperated. “Look. It’s right here!”
She reached where it should have been, but when she couldn’t find it “right here,” she too began frantically searching around for it. Finally she found it, tucked well out of my reach. She untangled it and put everything back where it should have been, setting the controller back beside me.
Most of the nurses who took care of me at the hospital were extremely helpful. Each one of them had their own personality, but each one also genuinely served. In fact, there was really only one exception, and yes, it just so happened to be the nurse whose attention I had to get with the plastic urinal.
For whatever reason, this particular nurse could never seem to get things quite right. She was often in a rush, she didn’t ask questions, and she left things undone. Multiple times I had to buzz her (when the buzzer was in reach) to ask her to close my door, turn off a light, help with medications… the list went on.
One night while I was lying in bed, it suddenly occurred to me what the difference was between her and everyone else who was taking care of me. Her job was just that… a J-O-B. It was a paycheck. She didn’t seem to have a sense that she was called. Consequently, excellence didn’t really matter to her.
Unlike this one nurse, others had traded their career for a calling.
Deb was one such example. Deb worked the night shift. During her first shift with me as a patient, she told me as she was leaving the room, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, and I pray for all my patients.” With that, she closed the door.
Over the next couple of nights, she was meticulous in her attention to detail. Deb was gentle, kind, and compassionate. She was constantly popping in to ask if there was anything I needed. I rarely had to buzz her because she got things right the first time.
Here’s what was most amazing about Deb: even as she was taking such great care of me, she was going through her own crisis. Her husband had recently left her, and her mother had recently passed away. Yet, despite her own world of unexpected disruptions, Deb saw her job as a calling. She served sincerely and with excellence.
My last night in the hospital, it was my birthday. That night, Deb brought me a birthday card that she and all of the other nurses had signed. Simple gestures of kindness make all the difference in the world. That’s the difference between a calling and a career.
Then there was Peggy. Peggy certainly didn’t have the highest-paying job on the hospital staff. Part of her responsibility was bathing the patients. If you have a modest bone in your body, you just kind of have to get over it in circumstances like the one I was in.
There I was, naked and in pain, getting my first shower in days. I couldn’t wash my body or my hair. And yet Peggy served me with kindness and compassion.
As I was sitting there, water pouring over my body, I said, “Peggy…” “Yes?” she asked in her Southern accent. “I don’t know how much money you make. But whatever it is, they should double it.” She laughed and smiled. What was a thankless job for many was a calling for this precious lady.
Career or calling? When you understand your life purpose, your calling becomes clear, and your life is infused with new passion.
Finding Purpose In Your Pain
God has something for you to do and someone for you to be. And when unexpected pain surfaces in our lives, it’s actually an opportunity to become what he wants us to be, and to do what He’s calling us to do. To help you find purpose in your pain, ask yourself these questions:
- How could the story of my pain offer hope to somebody else? Who needs to hear my story?
- How has my pain changed my attitude toward others who are suffering?
- What can I create or produce that would be a resource of hope for others?
- How is my pain prompting me to make changes in how I live my life?
- How is my pain prompting me to make my remaining days matter?
- What is God saying to me in my pain? What would honor and glorify Him?
Will you discover and pursue God’s purpose that will outlast your pain? You can wallow in your pain for the rest of your life. Or, you can turn a crucial corner, and actually choose to use it for good. What will be your choice? Find purpose in your unexpected pain. Only then will you find meaning in your suffering.
