Joining God

We are continuing our journey into uncharted territory.

Again, this is territory most of would prefer to avoid, myself included. 

But, so long as we live this side of heaven, there’s really no way to avoid it. 

I am talking about the territory of pain and suffering and tragedy.  And since there is no way to avoid it, we might as well figure out how to engage it constructively.

The tension here is that most of us don't now how to do this.

I’m convinced that a large percentage of the church simply doesn’t know how to enter into the pain of another and just be present.  Way too often we resort to giving people in pain positive clichés and pleasant platitudes to relieve our own discomfort with what they are experiencing.  Even when our intentions are to genuinely encourage or provide comfort, the opposite is too often the result.  And if we are genuinely striving to encourage others in pain, but discover that our words served to cause deeper harm and pain, should we not stop and examine where the disconnect is between our intentions and the result? 

Catchy Christian slogans simply will not do. 

God is in control.  God has a perfect plan. 

God never gives you more than you can handle. 

While many of these statements may be true, they are profoundly unhelpful and hurtful when applied in the wrong situations and circumstances.  When someone is in pain, they don’t need a catchy slogan that glosses over their pain with the assurance that God has a wonderful plan.  They need someone to enter into their pain and stay there as long as necessary.  It is within this context, the context of presence, that opportunities to speak in helpful ways actually originate. 

Part of the reason why we have such a hard time simply being present to others is that we are fixers.  We want to fix people’s pain.  We want to solve people’s problems.  We want to eliminate the crisis at hand…and get credit for being the hero.  And so we come with our gimmicky theological statements, our well-crafted advice, and our pre-planned solutions.  Let’s be honest.  This hardly ever works. 

Imagine two different therapists…

For all intents and purposes, both therapists are equally matched in education, skill, and competency.  The only difference is this: One uses his education, skill, and competency to craft action plans for his patients before his patients arrive with the goal of guiding them to the solution of their problem while the other therapist uses her education, skill, and competency to craft an action plan during the therapy session as a result of being present to the client.  Which therapist would you want to see if you were experiencing a significant issue in life?  My guess is the one who would take the time to be present to you, listen to you, and truly understand you. 

This is why there is no substitute for presence. 

If you bypass presence in an attempt to be helpful you risk being hurtful. 

In order to enter the pain of another, you must resist the temptation to fix their pain.  Please recognize that it is not your job to fix another person’s pain anyway.  That’s God’s job!  It’s God’s job to heal and restore and redeem!  Not ours.  Does that mean we don’t have a role to play?  Of course not!  God is good and invites us to play a part.  But our part is ultimately a participatory one—one where God is the primary fixer and healer and comforter and we are secondary ones.  We don’t fix or heal someone for God.  We become present to people in pain long enough to discern how God is extending healing and comfort to them…and then join in there. 

I find it interesting that when Jesus faced his darkest moment, in the Garden of Gethsemane, all he wanted was for his closest to disciples to stay present with him.  Even Jesus wanted people present when he was full of sorrow and deeply troubled. 

A friend of mine recently said that entering pain is a spiritual art. 

I really like that.  There is no scientific procedure to follow when entering pain.  There is no template or formula.  What’s being described here is something fundamentally different than imposing a pre-planned solution onto someone else’s problem.  We are after entering into the pain of another and remaining present in that pain long enough to discern and join God’s activity.  The goal of being present, then, is to join God.  We enter a person’s pain and stay there until we discern God’s grace.  So we don’t come with pre-packaged statements and gimmicky slogans to relieve pain.  No, that’s a robotic, non-empathetic, formulaic, scientific approach to handling pain.  No, we come to simply be present and discern what God is doing and join in his work—something a formula or template will never help us do.  We come to be present in pain and hear how God might want to speak to it.  That’s an art.  It’s not a science.  It’s an art because it requires spiritual discernment.  You don’t need spiritual discernment to offer clichés to people in pain.  Anyone can do that.  But you do need spiritual discernment to detect where and how God is moving and join his work. 

Isn’t that the difference between the two therapists?

One uses education, skill, and competency to offer pre-packages solutions. 

The other uses education, skill, and competency to enter in and discern what is really going on and what if anything can be done about it. 

The idea of joining God goes beyond just entering pain.

It relates to anytime we come alongside another whether in pain or not.  Too often we assume we know what’s best and work independently of God rather than striving to discern God’s presence and activity.  Most of us seek God’s direction and guidance when making big life decisions.  God, do you want me to marry this person?  God, do you want me to take this job and move my family?  God, do you really want me to trust you with _____?  Why not assume this same posture of dependency with every aspect of life?

The other day I received this text from a friend…

Mac, my wife is spotting.  We think we are going to lose our baby.  We are going to the doctor tomorrow, but right now things feel really hopeless. 

I’ve been there.  Josie and I had a miscarriage a little over a year ago. 

It would have been tempting for me to try to reduce their pain by staying positive.  Hey, spotting doesn’t mean you will lose the baby.  I know of several women who spotted and everything turned out fine.  Honestly, six months ago I probably would have done just that.  I would have tried to say something positive to relieve my own discomfort with what they were experiencing.  But experiencing deep pain changes you.  And it changes the way you relate to people in pain.  I’ve experienced great pain.  And, by God’s grace, I am learning how to relate to people in pain differently.  Sometimes there just isn’t a solution or fix.  Like, what if everything doesn’t turn out fine?  What if they really lose the baby?  What value would my words have then?  They would most likely become a painful reminder of what didn’t happen—some light spotting, but a healthy baby. 

And so I responded…

My goodness.  That sucks!  I am sorry you are going through this.  I am going to pray for you right now.  We are here to support you in any way we can. 

It turns out my friends did lose their baby. 

So what does support look like?

It’s remaining present to the extent that I am invited in and for as long as necessary with the hopes of detecting God’s gracious activity and joining in.  Seeking and joining God is not a one and done.  It’s a way of life.  It’s a way of approaching every situation and circumstance with dependency and faith and trust.  God, I trust that you are already at work here.  I know you invite me to join in.  Help me notice where you are at work and give me the courage and faith to respond.