How Long, O Lord, How Long?: Navigating the Pain we Face
This weekend did not go as planned at all. Hearing the words, “Your dog has two masses” is all that was needed to spring about heartache in the deepest recesses of mine and my husband’s heart. Faced with saying goodbye to our beloved basset was an unexpected grief, but a necessary one to end his pain; however, it began ours. The pain of grief has become my heart’s rhythm. Maybe pain has become your rhythm also.
When the Pain Comes
Pain comes in many packages: a relationship that ends, a dream denied, the loss of a loved one or beloved pet, a diagnosis—or whatever else; you fill in the blank. Whatever the package the pain may come in, the hurt is real. Pain is not a competition and carries its own meaning, its own weight, and its own emptiness. Each deserves to be acknowledged and met with care.
It has been a while since I have navigated this type of pain, and its rawness is real. I can’t help but wonder how long the pain will be present. Maybe you have wondered, or are currently asking yourself, the very question David posed, “My soul is in deep anguish, How long, Lord, how long?” (Psalm 6:3). None of us chooses these desperate spaces. We do not ask for the heartbreak, disappointment, grief, or circumstances that leave us wondering how we will make it through another day. Yet, sometimes, here we are.
The questions we form are no longer whether we want to walk through the pain or not. The question becomes: How do we walk through it without letting it consume us? How do we keep moving when we do not yet know when the hurting will end? How do we experience the pain without rushing toward the other side? Perhaps it begins with learning how to meet God right here—in the middle of what still hurts.
Navigating the Hurt
1) A – Acknowledge the Hurt
No pain will heal without acknowledgment. Our bodies can only store so much and the more pain we stuff, the more likely it is to spill out and, often, at the most inopportune times. Our pain needs a voice as much as our joy does.
David was never shy about the the pain he was experiencing. Like him, we have felt the intensity of Psalm 6:6, “I am worn out from my groaning. All night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears.” The pain I carry, the pain you may be carrying, is not too small, too irrelevant to feel. And our pain does not negate God’s goodness. We can both feel pain AND still know God is with us in it.
When we acknowledge our pain, we allow the Lord to meet us in the valley. It is here we can experience that the Lord is close to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18), binds up our wounds (Psalm 147:3), walks with us in the darkest valley and comforts us (Psalm 23:4), and is our refuge and strength (Psalm 46:1).
2) C – Communicate our hurt, our need
For many of us it is hard to share our pain. First, we don’t want to feel it, and then we don’t want someone else to experience our hurt or be a “burden” to someone. So we may choose to wrestle through our pain without community, without a “withness.” Or we may spiritually bypass ourselves so that we diminish the true impact of our hurt (i.e. This hurts, but God is stronger than the pain). For a moment this may feel right, but carrying pain on our own, denying its reality, soon becomes a heaviness we cannot lift.
Romans 12:10 reminds us to “Be devoted to one another in love…” When we love, we do not do so only when times are good; we also love during the hardest of times. Paul continues in verse 15, “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” We are called not only to acknowledge our hurt or other’s pain, but also to meet people where they are, even in the mourning.
God does not deem us weak or “sinful” for feeling our pain. Jesus is clear, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matt. 5:4). He provides us a way through the pain so we can gain strength and, eventually, be with others in their pain. And he does not anger when we demand to know “How long, Lord?” He provides the space we need while holding us as only he can.
3) T – Trust the process and the Savior
A Christian band, Unspoken, has a beautiful song “Sleep in the Storm.” The refrain of the song puts trusting the process of our pain while focusing on our Savior in perfect words:
Let the thunder be my comfort
Let the lightning be my guide
Let the waves that rise around me
Hold me gently through the night
For the winds that seem against me
Push me right into Your arms
Teach me how to sleep, in the storm
How to sleep in the storm
The pain we are in or are facing hurts. There is no one or thing that can tell us differently. Yet knowing that even in the middle of the storm, even in the darkest of nights, we can find our way into his arms is the peace that blankets us and hold us firmly.
This is the peace we find in Matthew 11:28 as Jesus states, “Come to me all who are weary, and I will give you rest.” Pain makes us weary. We do not have to be superheroes through our pain or carry our pain as a badge of honor declaring it didn’t hurt. The Savior calls us in our pain reminding us that we can rest in him during the storm.
Final Thoughts
As I have written this, tears have streamed freely. I don’t want them to, I don’t want to feel the anguish of my soul, as I imagine you do not want to feel yours either. However, if we want the peace we desire, then we must acknowledge our pain, communicate our hurt, and trust that Jesus is holding us, even in the storm. It is here we can experience God as Refuge, our Prince of Peace (Psalm 62:7; Isaiah 9:6; Phil. 4:7).