I have been truly blessed in my life. I’ve seen much of North America having travelled with my wife and children through 9 Canadian provinces and 41 American States. Some of the most magic of moments were found in the mountains, yet put into perspective one particular mountain trip has created for me, a lifetime of pain and discomfort. Not everyone who suffers through knee pain can relate to both the joy surrounding the cause, along with the agony of its presence each day. No, my knee problems do not stem from an accident but were caused by a journey down a steep mountain slope to visit a pastor and his family, on my first visit to Gangtok, in Sikkim Province, which is located in the Himalayan Mountains of Northeastern India. Most consider that stress on limbs might be during the climb up, but for me, it was the descent down a steep, rough goat-type path, which for the Pastoral family, was a norm; multiple trip events, during any day of the week. After several hundred feet of compression on the joints, the damage to both knees was done and the pain was there to stay.
Mountains with their beauty can be beautiful vistas. A dear cousin shared a mountain scene with me this morning and it brought tears to my eyes. It seems that the older I get, the more my heart leaks out through my eyes. I had received news of another critical illness yesterday (another mountainous concern before me) and since I am not one to dodge the issues, I have been writing to both the patient and his support group with words of encouragement, faith, and hope. It takes a lot of encouragement and faith, to reinforce hope in most situations. His case is only one of several that I am touched by these days. It seems that each day news of another old friend, or acquaintance, has been taken ill, and mostly due to cancer. That is a word that brings fear and trepidation to the hearts of most and is affecting more and more people each year.
Most days, since moving my bedroom to the ground floor of our home, have been much better for pain management. But, there are those days when certain movements bring sharp reminders of what knee damage is all about. But, what of other pain; we know that pain has many forms and not all are so easily managed. In my travels over North America, we traversed several times along the Oregon Trail. In places, you could look ahead, or back, and still see the wagon ruts of those early settlers along the trail, and my heart turned every time to the heartaches that they must have suffered on their journey west to new beginnings. Not everyone survived the journey and the idea of “just another mountain to cross” must have been more than some could endure. How is it that are some able to push on through the pain and others succumb so near the point of victory? We think little about the trials of those early settlers, or the trials of many who surrounding us seem too far out of our own orbit to matter a great deal… Those strugglers may be the ones who remain alone along the trail.
Struggles on the mountains are real. Unlike extreme athletes who train for the pain, the average person meets extreme pain with shock and dismay. Having lived for over 40 years with migraine pain, one would think that this man can likely handle pain. Yes, for the most part, I can. But there are many types of pain and many avenues of suffering that go along with them. A long time ago, some 44 years to be exact, I had daily medical updates on our first son, who was in critical care at the IWK Neo-Natal Unit. My questions were always foundationally based on the presence of pain. He struggled for 15 days but did not survive, and our hearts felt the first dose of what true pain was and we couldn’t even take an aspirin to stem its unhindered spread throughout beings. That was in 1974 and the questions that we had then will not be answered in this lifetime; plus that never means that the source of that pain will not be repeated.
In 2009 our second son had a seizure while he and his wife were visiting us in the city. It was brain cancer and the words, “I will try to give him 5 good years” have haunted me every day since. My life slides from day to day, fearing the future and yet doing my best to place my trust in a God who has created and promises to sustain. I am a realist, in the sense that I try to face what comes at me with what God has given me for strength, courage and faith. Not everyone will either understand or accept that for themselves, but it is my walk in life. I told a friend the other morning that I chose to answer a call to this walk and there is nothing I can do about it; it is who I am. I fall down hard some days, but God picks me up. I cry as I mentioned, and He dries my tears. I scream from my inner being and He silently awaits my calm to return, so that He can speak to me and be heard.
Lord, can you take away the pain? How many times through the years of hospital, nursing home and private home visits, have I heard that being echoed as well as in my own circumstances? Its intentional meaning stems from various maladies in life. One particular day, while I was on rounds in a Kentville area Nursing Home, a question that haunted me for several years after became an issue. A dear lady, looking at me through dimming eyes, asked me this question, “How long before I can go home?” There was no need for medical interpretation, no necessity for some deep theological or psychological search through years of textbooks for answers; it was straightforward and needed an honest answer. I longed to reassure her, to provide some comforting words to calm her paining heart, but she wanted the truth as I might know it. My identification tag and typical Pastoral greeting had paved the way for her question and I was not about to fudge on any truth adding a buffer of distraction at that point. So I gave her the answer; a two-fold answer that has been my guide in the ensuing years since that question first arose…”No one knows the answer to that question dear “and “For my part, I don’t think it is something we will ever know if we stick to God’s plan”.
Tears entered her eyes and she was then facing another mountain she must climb and in her mind, and in that moment, she did not want to climb it alone; so we chatted. She had lost her husband about 6 years before and she had been in the nursing home for a total of 9 years and she was very tired. She was not longing for a return to an earthly home, but instead for moving on to her heavenly one. That same question was on my Father’s lips every night for the last several months of his life. Having suffered a stroke in his early 90’s after being so active, his life with a view now from a wheelchair was not one he enjoyed. In looking after most of his needs for months, I soon learned that his longing for eternity became more precious to him, even though he would leave behind his wife and two sons. I held when the time came and reassured him that all would be OK, but my pain felt little relief. Nearly a decade later, I still think of those last moments and what was shared in the quiet of his hospital room. No tears, but an honest assessment of what he wanted, and then the end, and the heartache of losing someone I loved deeply.
Physical and mental anguish often go hand in hand. The first may be a manifestation of disease or injury and the patient who suffers feels something that finds definition in the body’s stress dealing with noted changes. The second is most often twofold if there are others who suffer with those they love. While we watch others in physical pain, our hearts react to the signature evidences of that pain, and it is almost as though we feel that pain in our own body. When we were young we may have had someone scoop us up and kiss away the pain of a skinned knee or elbow, but nothing can simply erase the pain of watching a loved hear the words; “There is little we can do but manage the symptoms and control the pain!” I have been reminded by our son not to feel sorry, sad or become teary around him. Life, he says, is a constant confrontation with the unknown and how we manage that insecurity daily is the test of our faith and the essence of our courage which then produces hope. Those may not be his exact words, but it is the crux of his meaning I am sure. Ben is one courageous man!
Every day we walk near the edge because whether we are aware of it or not, we ARE living near the edge. Just as I reminded that sweet lady many years ago, none of us knows the time; the day or the hour when we may be called into eternity. I realized quickly that I might not outlive my son. Any day, hour, or moment, I could slip into eternity due to ill health or accident. So I try to prepare myself for the mountains, the hard climbs, though each is unique. And though I sometimes cry out, “Lord, take away the pain” I am reminded that sometimes my request doesn’t get answered that way. Like those wagon ruts on the Oregon Trail, some paths that seem to be our course, we must follow, regardless of how hard the trip might be.
Today I am less in shock, after “more” disheartening news, than I was yesterday. Today I am writing to put my mind back in some semblance of order, that I might regain a tenable equilibrium in my own journey. If my writing helps others, then Praise the Lord! If nothing written thus far seems to touch your heart, please remember this; we are created and maintained by a sovereign God, who knows the outcome and plans the future beyond our comprehension. While we reel from the pain of bad news from others, or from personal illness, God “is” there. Christ asked that the cup of death be taken from him… yet his request was ended with this phrase… “Yet, not my will but thine be done!” Life does not always make sense and it will not always go just the way we plan or want it to, all the time. During the disappointments and trials, we keep on keeping on, with God’s grace to see us through.
God’s grace comes in many shapes and forms. Are you someone that He is using to extend His grace to someone today? Perhaps He is using someone to extend that grace to you! That is living near the edge and the view from there can be scary, but at the same time, it might just grant such calming peace for both the giver and the recipient.
