Recently, God allowed another painful suffering in my life. What I share with you is raw and honest, and I pray helpful. I hope that when reading it, you’ll benefit in navigating your own pain and trauma or help those navigate theirs.
Thanksgiving weekend, my husband and I took a walk on a cool Florida morning. I’m accustomed to walking fast to get my heart rate up and typically walk a couple of miles. When suddenly my left toe started dragging along the ground, keeping me from bringing my left foot forward. I fell hard on my left side and head. Another walker nearby heard me scream and hurried to help. My husband, Russ, asked if she would stay with me while he went to get our car and a neighbor. The plan was to get me in the car and to the hospital. However, while he was gone, the woman helping (conveniently a nurse) assessed my situation and suggested that she call an ambulance. No need to convince me! I knew my pain was at a level where my husband and our neighbor could not move me.
Once I got to the hospital, I saw my left thigh with its enormous swelling. I assumed a break in my ball and socket, femur, and who knows what else? Unfortunately, this is not my first encounter with pain and trauma. Though certainly one of the worst! The problem I always face initially is the struggle to endure each new event.
When lying in the ER, in so-much-pain, I just wanted to be home with Jesus! The thought of another surgery frightened me. My surgery track record is scary. And one more long-painful journey seemed overwhelming.
We called our son. I told him. “I can’t go through this level of suffering again!” After about thirty seconds of Mom crazy talk with my desperate plea to just be with Jesus; he couldn’t hear anymore.
Then we called our daughter, who listened briefly, and then said, “Mom, every time something bad like this happens to you, I hear those same words. And guess what? You survive the pain, and you get through it! I think you are much stronger than you realize.” Words I needed to hear, and ones I often keep telling myself.
Truth is, because the living God dwells inside of me, I have strength beyond anything I will ever fully realize!
God’s strength reservoir overflows. He will siphon out what we need. We don’t have to rely on our own strength.
The X-rays and a CT scan from my head to my knees proved me wrong. The final damage report included a cracked head. Relatively minor because of the fleece-lined beanie I had on. A fractured sacrum and a fractured pelvis. Along with a 13” x 6” hematoma that’s been as painful as the fractures. No surgery required, just time, pain, and healing.
I’ve learned a lot about pain, trauma, and the brain over the years and gained even greater insight through this recent event.
Pain blocks the brain’s ability to think. It’s why, when the woman assisting me when I fell asked me some simple questions, I couldn’t answer. In fact, all the way to the hospital, I kept trying to remember who was president? Not a tough name to remember when you hear it daily on the news and throughout social media. Pain confuses our thoughts and keeps us from performing simple tasks.
Never mistake pain’s temporary grip on you for lack of faith!
Pain can also keep us from God and our ability to worship him. I had no desire or ability to worship God that first week in the hospital. The pain held my mind captive. Severe trauma does the same. The mind has to heal, just like the body. Never mistake pain’s temporary grip on you for lack of faith! The pain will lessen and free the brain to worship again.
I want to recommend two excellent lectures by Dr Beth Argot on whole-brain-worship and understanding trauma and disconnection.
When you’re in pain, sometimes you feel anger towards God and your circumstances. Though God did not cause my fall, he allowed it. We all know he’s powerful enough to control any situation. This is when your friends send you verses like, “And we know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). And when you feel more like slapping them than trusting in that verse. Because of your faith, you know what’s true, but your pain rejects hearing it. Why you shouldn’t send verses like that to someone suffering deeply. Wait until the brain can worship again and connect to God’s Word.
Instead, always acknowledge their pain. Let them know you are praying them through their suffering.
I have a slew of worship songs in my Apple Music. A few weeks into my recovery, I was lying in bed, still hurting. I looked around the room at all the photos of my family. Instead of anger over my fall, I felt grateful for God’s many blessings! Then I hit the worship song playlist on my phone, as I’ve done many nights in the past. My heart, filled with praise and worship, to God! Worship and gratitude are a marvelous distraction from our pain.
Pain may also block our ability to move forward and therefore cause us to lose hope. Like I felt in the ER. And several times since then. Navigating these times of despair doesn’t always look pretty. Sometimes I rely on Mark 9:24 when my faith feels thin. Jesus, “I believe, help my unbelief!” Other times I feel empowered. For every time I trust God over my pain, I kick Satan’s butt to the gutter where it belongs. I never want to give Satan the victory, though sometimes it happens.
God seems to provide ways to use us even in our darkest of times. Such as writing this blog. Or the young man wanting to talk about spiritual things in the transport ambulance on my way to the rehab center. Or two friends in Kyiv, I could connect to each other when awake at night in pain and unable to sleep.
God cares deeply for the health of our souls when we struggle with pain and trauma. Recently, Mercy Me, came out with a song called, Make It Well. I listen to it repeatedly. I especially like the words at the end: “Keep this heart from hardening like stone; show me through the pain there’s reason still to praise. So, I can say, it is well with my soul. Whatever my lot, whatever my lot, you are still my God, and it is well with my soul.”