Pain

Physical therapy.

I hate the idea of doing (more) physical therapy. I skipped it for the torn meniscus, but it looks like my recent back pain is going to take me back. Well then.

If you can permit me a moment to list my injuries:

• Simple arm break x5
• Compound arm fracture x1
• Ankle spiral fracture (requiring surgery) x1 
• Tibial Plateau Fracture (including a dislocated kneecap) x1
• Torn ligaments in shoulder x1
• Torn ligaments in knee x1
• Torn meniscus x1

Now, this post is not about you feeling sorry for me (though if you want to for a minute, I'll take it), but to reflect on pain. I joke with my friends that I have a tremendous pain tolerance, but a low discomfort tolerance. For example, when I broke my ankle I drove myself to the hospital. I thought I had a sprain! I thought a break would hurt more. I ended up having surgery at the earliest possible moment. Does that make me sound tough? Well anyone who has ever endured me taking 3 bathroom breaks during an hour long meeting will attest that I am not nearly as tough when it comes to discomfort.

Why is this? I think that it comes down to mindset. When I am injured, I slip into a different mode. I anticipate pain and I am able to push through. I make jokes. I focus on everything but the pain. I am sure anyone who has ever been injured does the same thing. Pain destroys normalcy. The pain is all that matters, thus it can be dealt with. Life stops for pain.

Discomfort is a different animal. Discomfort is not easily ignored. It doesn't destroy normalcy, it joins in with normalcy. It occupies your mind and space, along with work and family. It demands your focus, even though it isn't severe enough to be granted your full attention.

That is what may back feels like. It is there. It is always there. Every moment I spend with my wife. Or kids. Or students. Or Jesus, is accompanied by a degree of pain or discomfort. Every chair feels wrong. Every standing position feels just off. It feels like wearing a pair of underwear that is two sizes too small. Except twice and hour the underwear electrocutes you. Or something.

The problem is, when do you deal with that kind of discomfort? It is never the most important thing for you to do. I'll confess, my back has hurt for months, but without a spasm last week, I wouldn't have seen a doctor.

I bet you can guess where I am going, but let's go there. How does this apply to life? How much soul discomfort do we tolerate because it doesn't feel painful enough to stop everything for?

In the course of life, there are moments of extreme pain that stop everything and demand full attention. Death. Divorce. Legal troubles. These stop everything. And I have noticed that most of us actually do WELL in these moments. We buckle down and get stuff done. We are strong for everyone else. We step up.

But what about the steady, gnawing issues? The addictions that don't seem to be causing problems. The doubt. The fear. The persistent feeling of inadequacy. Do we stop and deal with these, or do we wait for the crisis?

I have been reflecting for the past year or so on Jesus' command to not worry (Matthew 6:25-34). I have noticed how little worry I tend to have in major moments. I am not worried leading inner city projects. I just believe in God's protection. I don't worry about my staff overseas. I rarely struggle with existential questions when faced with death. But daily? I worry all the time. ALL. THE. TIME. I worry about money. I worry about my kids. My health. My wife's life satisfaction. My standing with people I respect. My standing with people I don't respect. My standing with God. Okay, so I worry about how other perceive me.

I find it interesting in Jesus' instruction not to worry that he focuses on what you will eat, drink, wear and tomorrow. I don't perceive that Jesus is talking about major crises of the day, but I think he talking about very, very basics. The day to day stuff. I think that is much, much harder to respond to normalcy with faith than it is crisis moments.

I have begun to think that faith in "big" moments is easy. It is confidence in Jesus in regular moments that is hard. Jesus' invitation to learn a worry-less existence from him is radical because he wants to invade our normal.

I would rather have a broken leg than a bad back. I know how to deal with pain. It's the gnawing that I can't stand. However, my life (spiritual, emotional) is so much more acquainted with the gnawing. I am sensing an invitation to notice. Notice my back (as if I could ignore it!). But also to notice my feelings. My fears. My worries. My compulsions. Notice the gnawing. I know how to give Jesus the big. Now I think he wants the small. At eighteen I came to realize that my life was too much for me to carry. Now I am learning just how little of it I can actually bear. Is a less productive me and less loved me? Scripture says "no". My mind often says "of course!". Such is the burdens I am invited to lay down.

I think learning to live free of worry starts with noticing all of the gnawing and entrusting those things to Jesus. Facing the gnawing is tough. It is like noticing how bad you have to pee. No one wants to highlight that which makes them uncomfortable. But I am coming to believe that is the way to knowing Jesus in the small. I need to know Jesus in the small.

Now if you excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.