Pain is Inevitable

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

I am teaching “Ministering to Women in Pain” this semester. It is one of the new courses in our counseling curriculum, and it is the first time I am teaching it. In preparation, I have been reading about theodicy (the theological question of a good and sovereign God and the problem of evil), and on pain and suffering in general.

One book I have read that has really affected me profoundly is “More than an Aspirin” http://gcts.christianbook.com/than-aspirin-christian-perspective-pain-suffering/gay-hubbard/9781572932579/pd/932579?item_code=WW&netp_id=615307&event=ESRCN&view=details by my friend Gay Hubbard. Gay and I have been exchanging thoughts on pain and the life of faith since I attended the first Sabbatical for Women in Ministry that she and Alice Mathews taught here at GCTS. This latest book of hers has been transformative for me. I would like to share some of her thoughts, and my thoughts about what she has written, with you.

If pain is inevitable, is it possible to live with pain in such a way that we alter its negative impact on our lives? Gay’s answer is, yes. It depends on how we respond to it. If we don’t think about it, pain will often lead to bitterness. It does not have to, however, if we decide to agree with God that pain can be used by him in redemptive ways to grow us into who he intends for us to become. In Gay’s phraseology, we much choose to believe in an Eastering God, even on that black, despairing Saturday.

An important lesson I am learning is that “I am not the pain,” rather pain is something that happens to me, and there are many other wonderful things in my life that make it worthwhile. “My life is more than my pain, and I will not die from this pain. I can choose to survive” (p.106). God has demonstrated to us in Jesus that he values pain for what it accomplishes. By his stripes we are healed. His suffering enables us who believe to become the children of God and to have complete and total forgiveness of our sins, and to live for eternity with God in the new heavens and the new earth. How great is that? So Jesus, although he did not want to suffer, agreed with the Father, not my will by thine be done. Amen. Me too. I don’t like suffering, and neither did Jesus, but he endured for the glory set before him. I want to do this too.

It is important to note that this does not mean I have to LIKE suffering. Jesus did not LIKE going to the cross. He ENDURED it for the sake of what it would accomplish. So, too, I have to ENDURE the suffering God allows in my life for the sake of what it accomplishes. With this new perspective, I can look at my life and the results of the suffering I have endured and see how God has used it to change me into the person he wants me to be, and to empower me to do the ministry he has called me to do. This is greatly encouraging.

Let me encourage you with some thoughts on this process:

1. If you are not your pain, then you can look at other aspects of your life. Notice the good things, and express gratitude for them. Keep doing that on a daily basis. You will be surprised at how this will help you to live the truth that you are not your pain.

2. God is an Eastering God. How can God bring resurrection to your Saturday pain? Do you see things in your life that God has used your pain to grow and create? Be thankful for them. But remember, you don’t have to LIKE the pain!

3. Try to let go of asking God “why?” He may or may not choose to let you know the whys of it all. We have the promise that “all things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to his purpose.” Trust that and leave it in his hands. When he is ready to le you know why, he will, and until then you will just lose a lot of sleep over it. Focus on God and trusting him for the outcome.

4. What you can change, change. If you are in a destructive relationship, do something about it. If you’ve developed a destructive way of life or pattern of thinking, do the work to change it. Do not continue in self-destructive relationships, behaviors, thoughts or emotions.

5. Don’t worry about whose fault it is. If there is something you are doing that is self-destructive and creating suffering in your life, by all means, take it to God, repent and change. But, if you cannot see any way that you have created the pain, don’t blame yourself. Trust God and leave it in his hands.

6. God does not promise a happy ending. Maybe your pain will end in you knowing God better and depending more on him, without it actually ending. I have learned that this can be okay, too. If I am more than my pain, it need not define me and I can live a full life of loving and serving God even in the midst of it.

7. Remember, what God cares about is your relationship with him. Cling to him, depend on him, trust him, go with him. That is the big thing for God.

I end with Gay’s word on how we may think about our pain (pp. 109-110):

My pain is what it is - my pain. I did not choose this pain. I cannot avoid this pain. But life and God are bigger than my pain, and I am more than my suffering. In this pain I can choose life. I can choose to live productively through this pain.

It is what it is: pain. But that is all that it is: my pain. It is not evidence of my inadequacy, my unloveableness, or the absence of my worth. It is neither proof of my personal culpability nor evidence of the absence of God.

The cycle of life is what it is; laughter and tears; gain and loss; joy and pain. In the cyle of my life I have come to this season of pain. I cannot go around it, but I can and will go through it. I can survive. And I choose to do more than survive. I choose to live in a way that permits good things to emerge from this time of pain. I count upon God’s promise that I cna be more than conqueror in all things (Romans 8:37).

In this pain, I choose life. In the present darkness of my soul and disordered circumstances, I choose life. In wordless faith in an Eastering God, I chose to live.

A Public Service Announcement

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

It happened again this week. A young couple called me for help. They love each other but are struggling because the wife has lost all interest in sex. They come to me for help with this area of their marriage. It has happened several times this past year. A young couple, faithful Christians, wait until marriage to have sex, and then (usually right on their honeymoon) there are problems.[1] They are confused and embarrassed. They don’t know who to turn to. They keep trying, but over time, the wife loses interest in sex, starts avoiding her husband’s touch, gets to where she actively dislikes sex and wishes they would never have sex again.

They arrive in my office ambivalent: hopeful and fearful, in despair and yet willing to try this as their last resort. He loves her, but he can’t go on like this. We talk about their relationship, how they met, how they fell in love, and how sad they are that they have gotten to this point in their marriage. Often, the final push to seek help comes because they want to have children. No intercourse, no children, unless they take extraordinary measures. At the end of the first session, I give them some papers to fill out and ask them each to make an appointment to talk with me individually about things. They agree. They are hopeful that I can help.

The wife comes to her appointment wary. She feels bad because she can’t meet her husband’s need for sex. She knows that God designed sex for pleasure between husband and wife, but she would rather just never do it again. Except that she feels guilty because he wants it. What can I do to help? We review the forms she’s completed. We get to those questions: Does it hurt. Yes. Where? How much? What kind of pain? Turns out, it has always hurt. She has avoided gynecological exams because they hurt. She can’t use tampons because they hurt. I wonder how she thought sex would be different. I tell her, something is physically wrong. Sex is not supposed to hurt. Let’s get you to a doctor who understands this and can help you.

She goes to the doctor I recommend. She is diagnosed with vulvodynia, vulvar vestibulitis, or vaginismus. The doctor starts a course of treatment. I work with the couple to help support the medical interventions and treat the psychological and relationship damage that has been done.

Then one day they come in, shyly smiling. They had pain-free intercourse! It’s a miracle! We celebrate. We work to repair the damage that the painful intercourse has done over the months, years, or longer. She becomes interested in finding pleasure in sex. Then my work turns to sexual enhancement, and I help them find each other. It is very satisfying work. It feels great to help this young Christian couple find God’s blessings in their sexual relationship.

Let me summarize: sex should not hurt. If intercourse is painful, if that’s a new problem or an old problem, if it’s just intercourse (or tampons and pelvic exams), it should not hurt. Not every gynecologist is prepared to deal with this. Sexual medicine is not in the curriculum of every medical school. If you or someone you love is struggling with painful intercourse, get help. It does not have to be this way. The sexual medicine practice I work with has information about this on its website (www.bestsexualadvice.com). You can also find a listing of doctors who specialize in sexual medicine on the website of the International Society for the Study of Women’s Sexual Health (http://www.isswsh.org/resources/provider.aspx). Don’t wait and don’t ignore it. When sex is good, it is a small part of satisfaction with one’s marriage. But when sex is bad, it is a huge part of dissatisfaction with one’s marriage. God intended sex for pleasure. It should not hurt.

Pain, and Glass, and Beauty

By Sean McDonough, PhD
Associate Professor of New Testament

It may seem strange to find beauty in an obituary, and stranger still when the subject of the obituary is virtually unknown. But there is much of it to be found in the Economist’s heartbreaking tribute to the stained glass artist Michael Lassen, who died in a fall from Durham Cathedral in September (http://www.economist.com/node/17199498?story_id=17199498). I will do little more here than note the most salient points, and implore you to read it in its entirety.

Lassen had been working on the Transfiguration of Christ in the south quire at the time of accident. The obituary describes his fall:

He was fitting a small panel at the bottom left-hand side, a pane of bruised blue glass that showed the broken and suffering about to be transformed by light, almost the last piece in the window, when he fell. He was not particularly high up, working at the ledge. But stone flags are unforgiving.

We see there a hint of the poignant match of the man, and the moment, and the message that was to come fully to light a few weeks later:

But when September 25th came, the day of dedication, he was remembered in a different way. The clue lay in George Herbert’s poem “The Windows” which was sung as an anthem at evensong. Man was “a brittle crazy glass”:
Yet in thy temple thou dost him afford This glorious and transcendent place To be a window, through thy grace.
As the congregation pressed through afterwards into the south quire aisle they found the windows still wreathed in incense, like the cloud of God that had enveloped Jesus on the mountain. Through it shone the glass. Its golds and blues were smoky in the evening light, but the central column blazed white, like the transfiguration of a man; and of all men, named or un-named, whose lives and skills are embedded in the stone and glass of great cathedrals.

Should we have children?

By Maria Boccia, PhD
Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Psychology
Director of Graduate Programs in Counseling Charlotte campus

I have a friend who wants to have children. She is in the midst of deep conversation over this. Her husband says he does not want children - he says it will be like a death sentence to have a child. How do they decide? What factors go into the decision to have a child?

Peter Singer, chair of the Department of Philosophy at Princeton University, recently stirred up quite a bit of emotion with his blog “Should This Be the Last Generation?” (See http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/06/06/should-this-be-the-last-generation/). He presents the arguments of another philosopher who basically says, we should stop reproducing because it is better to have never existed than to have lived this life which has so much pain and suffering.

Let me repeat that: It is better to have never existed than to have lived because there is so much pain and suffering. The fleeting happiness we do experience is not worth the living of a life.

Singer is a utilitarian philosopher. He claims not to be a classic utilitarian philosopher because it’s not just about how much happiness he accrues. Rather his utilitarianism is one that asks what action creates the greatest good for all sentient beings, with the least harm. However, at bottom, “because it makes me happy” is basically why he says ‘yes’ - his children and grandchildren make him happy. They lead relatively happy lives.

Chuck Colson, member of the board of trustees of GCTS, wrote a column in the August edition of Christianity Today, “The Lost Art of Commitment.” Colson is commenting on the radical individualism of our culture that defines meaning in terms of personal happiness. Since the 1960s and 70s, a new generation has arisen that does not make commitments. That generation includes many who have no sense of community or social obligation, who live in a world perceived as lacking meaning. Colson cites Robert Bella as calling this “‘ontological individualism,’ the belief that the individual is the only source of meaning.” But Colson notes, instead, that life’s meaning is really found in relationship - with God and with each other, and this requires commitment. He writes, in exact opposition to what Peter Singer asserts, that “by abandoning commitment, our narcissistic culture has lost the one thing it desperately seeks: happiness. Without commitment, our individual lives will be barren and sterile. Without commitment, our lives with lack meaning and purpose. After all, if nothing is worth dying for . . . then nothing is worth living for” (emphasis added).

“Whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (I Cor 10:31). If God is our source of meaning, then this is the reason for our choices. To have children is an act of faith that God is still on his throne and sovereign over all creation. To have children is an act of hope that God is still watching and caring, and redeeming the world. To have children is an act of love that God has made the two one flesh and blessed that union.

This does not make our lives easier or simpler, or give us any guarantees. I don’t know what my friends will decide about children. I pray for them as they wrestle through their decision. It is painful to watch them struggle with this decision. I myself do not have children, not by choice. But since my life is about glorifying God, not my personal happiness, then I believe my childlessness is a part of his plan for me. Sometimes, this means I hold on to “God is sovereign and God is good” and look for his meaning in this. I cling to the Scripture that says all things work together for good to those who love God, who are called according to his purpose, even if I can’t understand how right now. Jesus showed us that we are worth dying for, and that makes our lives worth living. Period. So, should we have children? That decision, as all decisions for us as children of God, should flow out of this truth, rather than some individualistic computation of personal happiness. “You are worthy, O Lord our God, to receive glory and honor and power. For you created all things, and they exist because you created what you pleased.” (Rev 4:11, NLT).