 |
| "Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You're not in the driver's seat; I am. Don't run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I'll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? What could you ever trade your soul for?" Mark 8:34-37 |
I'm reminded of two homeless friends I lived with in Galveston. It's only when I look back on that time that I see a role reversal. At the time, I thought I was the hero, the one who was going to "teach" them how to start living right and getting their lives back together.
As I read through this passage, I can still hear the little cliches that Stephen would throw out at me as I was bustling around, running like crazy, trying to fix everyone and everything. God's got us. God's got us. I couldn't hear what he said at the time. I was too busy trying to be the savior, to live in the driver's seat. In my mind, I was the suffering servant, sacrificing myself in order to help other people. In reality, I was dead set on being in control, of getting the recognition I deserved for "doing unto others." I was on a search for a heavenly trophy and an earthly recognition.
I will never forget how messed up they were. They were deep in the grips of crack addiction, dominated by the obsession of more. I was enveloped in the throes of alcoholism and self-absorption, but I just couldn't see it. God's got us. God's got us. When I would come home from work and find them playing Mario Bros. on the Nintendo, or find them smoking pot on the back porch, I would ramp up my energy even more and try to force my control on everyone. How dare you not do what I want!
The one moment that tenderized my heart was my birthday. Emotionally and physically, I had disconnected myself from all of my friends and family back home. I didn't say anything about my birthday. I figured it wasn't worth it.
As I sat at my desk at work, a man and a woman walked in holding a balloon they stole from a local bank. Written on the balloon with black Sharpie were the words, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY JON!" A slice of pie was covered in plastic wrap. I was absolutely speechless, and did all I could to not break down. After I got off of work that day, they planned a birthday party for me, and I had no idea. When I got home, there was a circle of chairs in front of my house, and about six people from the neighborhood, all suffering from their own forms of addiction and heartache, were sitting and waiting for me. A cooler sat in the middle of the circle with my favorite beer, Shiner Boch. In that moment, something was transferred to me from my friends.
If you've ever experienced the darkness of addiction, or been around anyone who has, you know how sad and crazy it is. Stuff gets stolen. Lies get told. Fights happen. That's all I could see in these folks up to this moment, in this birthday circle. I saw chaos and commotion in these people. I saw people who needed a lot of help, and I would be the one to help them, dammit! God's got us. God's got us.
On this simple birthday night, chaos became peace and these people of want became the family I needed. What they showed me in that few hours was that it was not only possible to embrace suffering, but it was possible to sacrifice themselves amidst suffering. Though they were fighting the hopeless battle of drug addiction, they went beyond themselves to think of me, a deluded sufferer myself.
Suffering envelops all of our lives in one way or another. It comes and it goes. I'm the type of guy who - when I have physical or emotional pain going on - needs to let everyone know about it. Self-pity is one of my most-used resources when it comes to suffering. I want people to feel sorry for me think I'm such a great guy for enduring so much. But, that's not embracing suffering. That's me still trying to drive, to lead, and to be in control of the results.
To embrace suffering, I have to be introspective, which usually doesn't mean screaming from the mountaintops about how I persevere so well. I have to ask myself hard questions like, "What am I afraid of?" I don't get to take an emotional painkiller, or take a shot of spiritual whiskey. I have to let it be. The only way to find the light is to take a plunge into the darkness sometimes. If there's no lesson to be learned, I'm missing out on something vital for my growth.
Jesus invites us to embrace suffering. He tells us that it's necessary for him to be tried by the religion scholars, high priests, and government officials. He tells us that it's necessary to be found guilty and killed. He tells us its necessary to rise again after three days.
I believe that suffering is necessary. In these times of life, there's something inside me that's getting tried, found guilty, and killed. If I don't let the process happen, and get out of the driver's seat, it may feel good but the part of me that needs to die is going to keep lingering and haunting me until I do let it die. The only way to rise up again is to let suffering show me what parts of me need to die. Quietly enduring with prayer and honesty, I will know what part of me is expired. Letting the pain take its course, it seems there's no possible way to get through. A good sign that I'm not in the driver's seat during suffering is when I don't see the way out. It means that I am not groping around in the dark trying to find quick fixes. What happens is I'll find a solution that lasts, a solution that replaces the part of me that needed to die.
Self-sacrifice is so hard because I have so many companions that I've held onto like brothers. Anger, control, and lust have treated me so tolerantly over the years that I don't believe I need to sacrifice these parts of myself. They've convinced me that they're necessary for living. Eventually, though, they start causing me trouble. I'll yell at someone at work, or try to be the owner of the restaurant I work at, or go over on my Internet bill because of all the porn videos I've watched. When these things stack up, I experience an extreme amount of emotional pain, but I can see clearly the parts of me that need to die. When I can see them, I let the pain take it's toll and eventually see it's replacement. The replacement is a little resurrection of my heart, a new found outlook in a place that used to be solely darkness.
I believe in a God who isn't removed from the suffering that we humans endure throughout life. I believe this God felt the pain, let it take its toll, died, and found life again. A God who knows what it's like to suffer, but who also knows what it's like on the other side, is a God I want to know deeply. God's got us. God's got us.
Today's Action: What's one way I am suffering today? Am I trying to put Band-Aids on it, or am I letting the pain run its course? What part of me is dying (anger, fear, self-pity, etc.)?
No comments:
Post a Comment