I'm gonna go with "hilarious."
**[See original here.]
February 19, 2010
"Suffering is Optional"
I meant to post about Ginger's visit earlier, then I had a post-in-process about Valentine's Day, but I've had a string of bad days recently which got in the way. I think I've reached another plateau with the meds I'm on for the chronic pain, which means upping the dose again. (Something I'm not happy about doing, but I'll be seeing my doctor in the next few weeks. I'll harangue him about it, and he, in turn, will be very Jewish about it. "So, you want pain, then? You don't trust my judgment? Okay, then." It's kind of fun.)
So my thoughts have been focused on other things! The timing was pretty good, you can imagine, with Lent starting right around the time the pain hit. And this is why I love Lent, really -- there are suddenly enormous graces available to do the things we normally do anyway, plus a little bit more on the side. You know, to resist that cup of coffee you've given up. I had a terrible headache on Tuesday, I think it was -- the kind that won't go away no matter how many Advils you pop. So I offered it up for a friend whom I know is going through a hard time right now. I sent her an e-mail to tell her so, and she immediately replied, "I know! I could tell someone was praying -- I suddenly had such a refreshing day yesterday..."
That's a grace. Both for me and for her, but especially for me. To get a confirmation like that is tremendously consoling. Suddenly I feel like some superhero in the prayer department: "Give me your poor, your tired, your huddled masses, and I shall zap them with amazing zaps of grace."
The fact that I'm feeling upbeat right now is a grace in itself. These days when the meds are no longer working are hard to take, since the pain lasts all day for several days in a row. But I am feeling upbeat. I feel like God's hand is very much directing things -- I'm simply along for the ride.
Meanwhile, I very accidentally found this beautiful blog post about the painter Renoir, who suffered from rheumatoid arthritis for the last few decades of his life. He experienced greater and greater amounts of pain, and simply found ways to adapt so he could keep painting. (This is one intention I have right now -- to figure out how to adapt things so I can keep working on my doctorate.) This is an excerpt from the end of the post:
So my thoughts have been focused on other things! The timing was pretty good, you can imagine, with Lent starting right around the time the pain hit. And this is why I love Lent, really -- there are suddenly enormous graces available to do the things we normally do anyway, plus a little bit more on the side. You know, to resist that cup of coffee you've given up. I had a terrible headache on Tuesday, I think it was -- the kind that won't go away no matter how many Advils you pop. So I offered it up for a friend whom I know is going through a hard time right now. I sent her an e-mail to tell her so, and she immediately replied, "I know! I could tell someone was praying -- I suddenly had such a refreshing day yesterday..."
That's a grace. Both for me and for her, but especially for me. To get a confirmation like that is tremendously consoling. Suddenly I feel like some superhero in the prayer department: "Give me your poor, your tired, your huddled masses, and I shall zap them with amazing zaps of grace."
The fact that I'm feeling upbeat right now is a grace in itself. These days when the meds are no longer working are hard to take, since the pain lasts all day for several days in a row. But I am feeling upbeat. I feel like God's hand is very much directing things -- I'm simply along for the ride.
Meanwhile, I very accidentally found this beautiful blog post about the painter Renoir, who suffered from rheumatoid arthritis for the last few decades of his life. He experienced greater and greater amounts of pain, and simply found ways to adapt so he could keep painting. (This is one intention I have right now -- to figure out how to adapt things so I can keep working on my doctorate.) This is an excerpt from the end of the post:
All of Renoir’s work is so full of joy, but to know just how much pain was endured in the pursuit of that joy makes it all the more jubilant to me. Some great distance runner once said, “Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.” Renoir felt the pain, but chose not to suffer but to live, and to create.So. That's my goal. I'll be praying for that ability to find ways to live jubilantly, and since I have pain to offer up right now, this will be answered awesomely. If you have intentions of your own that need to be answered awesomely as well, now's the time! Let me know. List them in the comments box, or just mention "a personal intention." Then await the zapping.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
