Chronic Pain Lifestyle

This Pastor Has Guts

     Special thanks to Deborah for passing this along:

It seems prayer still upsets some people. Please read....

When  Minister Joe Wright was asked to open the new session of the Kansas House, everyone was expecting the usual  generalities, but this is what they heard:

"Heavenly  Father,
We come before you today
To ask your forgiveness and
To seek your direction and guidance.

We know Your Word says,
"Woe to those who call evil good"
But that is exactly what we have done.

We have lost our spiritual equilibrium
And reversed our values.

We have exploited the poor and
Called it the lottery.

We have rewarded laziness
And called it welfare.

We have killed our unborn
and called it choice.

We have shot abortionists
And called it justifiable.

We have neglected to discipline
Our children and called it
Building self esteem.

We have abused power
And called it politics.

We  have coveted our neighbor's
Possessions and called it ambition.

We have polluted the air
With profanity and
Pornography and called it
Freedom of  speech and expression.

We have ridiculed the time Honored values of our Forefathers and called  it enlightenment.

Search us, Oh,  God, And know  our hearts today; Cleanse us from every  sin
And set us free.

Amen!"

The response was  immediate. A number of  legislators walked Out during the prayer in  protest.

In 6 short weeks, Central Christian Church,  where Rev. Wright is pastor, logged more than 5,000 phone  calls with only 47 Of those calls responding negatively.  The church is now receiving international requests for copies of this prayer from India , Africa and Korea  .

Commentator Paul Harvey aired this prayer on his  radio Program, "The Rest of the Story," and received a larger response to this program than any other he has  ever aired.

With the Lord's help, may this prayer  sweep over our Nation and wholeheartedly become our desire  so that we again can be called "one nation under God."

If possible, please pass this prayer on to  your friends "If you don't stand for something, you will  fall for anything."

God's Mercy in the Sweet By and By

      How fortunate are we that once in a while we do some good?  Who ever really knows what a small kindness may mean to its' recipient?  I publish this in the hope that we all remember that He is here with us and that He guides willing hands to do His work.  Glory in His name, we ask for God's Mercy on us.  Colin

A new comment from “Denise Kellams” was received on the post “A Reader Speaks up! A Cry for Fairness.” of the weblog “Chronic Pain Lifestyle”.

Comment:
Colin, I am Diane Hort's sister (Sarah in your article). She died 8/25/07. I wanted you to know, as she was very touched to 1) Have her story published on the web 2) Receive comments. I am witness to her medical challenges as well as the financial and emotional burdens that accompanied her illness(es). I felt that since she was so touched by your support, that my note to you would let you know that your kindness and website were blessings to her. Thank you for your prayers and warm thoughts of her. She will be missed dearly and we are only glad that she is no longer in constant pain. One thing that she strived to achieve in her last few years was her spiritual growth and companions via internet. She was house-bound in these last few months; so your correspondence was immensely appreciated. You can locate her 'In Memory' by searching for any of the following newspapers on-line (all newspapers are in Kansas); The Colby Press, The Oakley newspaper, McPherson Sentinel, Garden C ity, Kansas newspaper. You will also find my name as surviving sister to confirm both Diane and me. Again, best wishes to you and your team and the help you will give to others. Diane would love to know that you were able to help others who are in the situation that she was in. Thank you, Denise Kellams

Ten Guidelines from God

      I hope you enjoy reading these emails that fly around quicker than Wall St. jokes.  I certainly do.  A good friend and ours, Kathy, faithfully sends these to me.  I print them in the hopes that if you've missed any of these epistolaries, you can read them here.  Kathy suffers from chronic pain caused by "LAM".  Please pray for her; pray that her burden may be eased and that she will survive this terrible disease.  God bless, Colin

Ten Guidelines From God

Effective Immediately, please be aware that there are changes YOU need to make in YOUR life. These changes need to be completed in order that I may fulfill My promises to you to grant you peace, joy and happiness in this life. I apologize for any inconvenience, but after all that I am doing,this seems very little to ask of you. Please, follow these 10 guidelines:

1. QUIT WORRYING: Life has dealt you a blow and all you do is sit and worry. Have you forgotten that I am here to take all your burdens and carry them for you? Or, do you just enjoy fretting over every little thing that comes your way?

2. PUT IT ON THE LIST: Something needs done or taken care of. Put it on the list. No, not YOUR list. Put it on MY to-do-list. Let ME be the one to take care of the problem. I can't help you until you turn it over to Me. And although My to-do-list is long, I am after all... God. I can take care of anything you put into My hands. In fact, if the truth were ever really known, I take care of a lot of things for you that you never even realize.

3. TRUST ME: Once you've given your burdens to Me, quit trying to take them back. Trust in Me. Have the faith that I will take care of all your needs, your problems and your trials. Problems with the kids? Put them on My list. Problem with finances? Put it on My list. Problems with your emotional roller coaster? For My sake, put it on My list. I want to help you. All you have to do is ask.

4. LEAVE IT ALONE: Don't wake up one morning and say, "Well, I'm feeling much stronger now, I think I can handle it from here." Why do you think you are feeling stronger now? It's simple. You gave Me your burdens and I'm taking care of them. I also renew your strength and cover you in my peace. Don't you know that if I give you these problems back, you will be
right back where you started? Leave them with Me and forget about them. Just let Me do my job.

5. TALK TO ME: I want you to forget a lot of things. Forget what was making you crazy. Forget the worry and the fretting because you know I'm in control. But there's one thing I pray you never forget. Please, don't
forget to talk to Me - OFTEN! I love YOU! I want to hear your voice. I want you to include Me in on the things going on in your life. I want to hear you talk about your friends and family. Prayer is simply you having a conversation with Me. I want to be your dearest friend.

6. HAVE FAITH: I see a lot of things from up here that you can't see from where you are. Have faith in Me that I know what I'm doing. Trust Me; you wouldn't want the view from My eyes. I will continue to care for you, watch over you, and meet your needs. You only have to trust Me. Although I have a much bigger task than you, it seems as if you have so much
trouble just doing your simple part. How hard can trust be?

7. SHARE: You were taught to share when you were only two years old. When did you forget? That rule still applies. Share with those who are less fortunate than you. Share your joy with those who need encouragement. Share your laughter with those who haven't heard any in such a long time. Share your tears with those who have forgotten how to cry. Share your
faith with those who have none.

8. BE PATIENT: I managed to fix it so in just one lifetime you could have so many diverse experiences. You grow from a child to an adult, have children, change jobs many times, learn many trades, travel to so many places, meet thousands of people, and experience so much. How can you be so impatient then when it takes Me a little longer than you expect to
handle something on My to-do-list? Trust in My timing, for My timing is perfect. Just because I created the entire universe in only six days,everyone thinks I should always rush, rush, rush.

9. BE KIND: Be kind to others, for I love them just as much as I love you.  They may not dress like you, or talk like you, or live the same way you do, but I still love you all. Please try to get along, for My sake. I created each of you different in some way. It would be too boring if you were all identical. Please, know I love each of your differences.

10. LOVE YOURSELF: As much as I love you, how can you not love yourself? You were created by me for one reason only -- to be loved, and to love in return. I am a God of Love. Love Me. Love your neighbors. But also love yourself. It makes My heart ache when I see you so angry with yourself when things go wrong. You are very precious to me. Don't ever forget......

Note: I received this from a friend and I have no idea who wrote it, but I was so touched by it, that I had to share it with you. I hope that you will be blessed by it and will share it with others.

Morning Prayers with a Marine, Semper Fi.

       Every morning a Marine, a deacon from my parish visits my home to pray with me, hear an act of contrition and offer me Holy Communion.  Truth is, I'm not always awake.  Some mornings, say after a painful night, he'll shake me by the shoulder, just enough to make sure I'm awake, offer me a blessing, and put the Host in my mouth.  One half of an hour later, I get out of bed with the Host still in my mouth. This comforting ritual, if not always as deeply spiritual as I might hope, is a nice way to start the day, with my first thought of The Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

     Call him Ted and let me tell you about him.  He's a Marine who survived one of those horrific landings in the Pacific (ironic name, huh?) in WWII, survive one particular morning.  His special mornings began almost 60 years ago; a beach landing, all of his fellow Marines killed except for Ted: the lone survivor.  If you've read much history of the Pacific Theater in WWII, you've read of these many D-Days, human waves under blistering fire sent charging-up a naked beaches on some atoll. Naturally, taking enormous casualties, then being called on to do it again and again.  I can't imagine anyone surviving this. 

     He reminds me of this story often. He's never mentioned his own heroism, only that it was a miracle he lived. The way he describes that morning is as if he feels guilty for having made it out alive; on the one hand guilty, yet on the other grateful that of 400 men one day, all but one was killed. 

     Ted feels so deeply touched by this miracle that he's since committed much of his life to helping other people.  He speaks from a faith so deep that he describes Christ as "the only eternal truth in this world."

     If I tell him that my doctors have given me a bleak prognosis for recovery, he's shocked and says, "Only God knows that."  When I'm awake, we chat and I feel "weak" complaining.  This morning though, I confessed to him that not only was I down in the dumps, but was in a lot of pain; really struggling to be a good husband and father and that my faith was waning.

     His idea was that we pray again for my complete recovery.  I lost my temper a bit.  I told him two things: first, that God had given me many opportunities in life and that now, if I chose to see it this way, my pain was also an opportunity.  I'm in pain because He's got some task for me that required my pain.  Then I explained this blog.  I see this blog as my responsibility to try to help people who are in worse shape than I am.  I told him about the beautiful emails I receive from you from all over the world.  Many shock me giving the writers and photographer of this blog far too much credit.  Comments roll in, other blogger sites that I participate on send touching praise.  I sometimes wonder if this blog is one big prayer; certainly not better or worse than any other prayer, just big.  I think I overstepped when I said that I see this post, and every other one in the blog, as a calling.  Sure, we're all hurt here, but we have the chance to offer some goodness.  As with all human endeavors, I and we at this blog sometimes do it well, sometimes poorly.  His will be done...

     The second thing is that my pain is also my penance.  As I've said before, life is good to me; God has graced me in ways too numerous to count...now, I owe. 

     Two birds with one stone that is really two steps:  we write, as best we can to share His grace because we feel pain, which I'd rather not have;  and in my case, penance due for sins long since past and still to come.

      I told Ted I wasn't going to pray for my pain to be lifted.  I have pain because I need it to do as He will have me do.  I'm done now except for one thing: this gentle, faithful tough old Marine said to me as he left, Semper Fi.  I took this as a compliment, particularly coming from him.  I said, Always Faithful. 

     He wiped a tear and thanked me for the strength I'd given him.  I hadn't give him a thing...my back hurt.

     His will be done, regardless of our intentions.  He uses us as he sees fit.  He touches people through us.  God bless us all, Colin

   

God Bless, Wanda; Good Luck in Surgery

    When you get a free moment please say a prayer or think a kind thought for Wanda V., who writes many articles for us.  Wanda is going into surgery to have parts of her old, defective pump removed.  Hope that she has a quick and easy recovery.  She's certainly earned it.

     Wanda is a special friend.  When I was first diagnosed with Arachnoiditis, I joined COFWA where a met Wanda.  I was an uncomfortable "newbie" in a forum where it seemed that everyone knew one another.  Wanda was the first person to write me; it was a lengthy email that explained many answers to questions I hadn't yet thought to ask.  If COFWA was Wanda's home, she welcomed me, a stranger inside.  I became an active participant on that board.

     We then "crossed" one another and ended up in a big snit; I picked up my toys and left that group and with Anne M., build Chronic Pain Lifestyle.

     As usually happens between good friends, Wanda and I mended fences and Wanda began publishing that wonderful multi part series on Pain Pumps.  I hope that this will be it's happy ending. God bless, Wanda, your friend, Colin.   

Lent, 2007 for My Wife

      It seems that the big theme in my life in the past few years since the onset of arachnoiditis, has been subtraction: the removal of physical capabilities, the deterioration of my health, a test of my faith, the loss of the physical love of my wife, loss of my career, etc.

     This year for Lent, Blessed Mother pray for me, I want to add back into my thoughts a new and deeper commitment of trust, faith and love of The Lord, Jesus Christ.  I want to open my heart to all people, those closest to me and those I dislike.

     Most of all, for the 40 days leading-up to Palm Sunday, I want to put my wife ahead of me.  I want her wishes met ahead of mine so that those wishes become ours.  I pray not to lose my temper with her, nor to raise my to her voice in anger. 

     Although I'm in pain, for these 40 days I pray that her agenda supersedes mine. 

     I want to add back into her life my love, which through the trials of my disease, I've wrongfully withheld.  I want my wife to be my girlfriend again.

     God bless you, your husband.

      

A Disney World Crip Trip!

       One of my kids, a cheerleader, is on a team that qualified for the US Championship, held at Disney in Orlando Fl.  Last year, she qualified as well, but I just wasn't up for the trip.  That's not right; I was afraid to try the trip.  This year I went.

     The flight is a bit more than 2 hours, and despite the orange threat level, both Jet Blue and Delta make entering and exiting the jet as easy as possible.  Loaded up on Actiq, I, my wife and 3 more of my kids left the cold of the North behind us and spent 4 days at the Dolphin Hotel (centrally located; convenient to Epcot, MGM the Boardwalk and Downtown Disney but mind-blowingly inconvenient to the Magic Kingdom).

     I've decided that I've really got to make more of an effort at least try to participate in some of these important family events.  What's the downside?  Laying in bed for four days, and a tough flight home?

     YES!  Damn right!  That's the downside!  Five grand down the chute and laying in a bed in Orlando Florida followed by a brutal flight home.  Then another week recovering from this "vacation".

     But to be fair, I brought it all on myself.  I was on the upswing from a bad fall, and my pain meds and stimulator had me fairly well balanced, so as I said, it was worth a shot.

     On our first day, I quickly bounced back from the agonies of the flight,  The next morning, my feet and legs hurt badly until the methadone kicked in.  I carried 2 Actiq's, and we hit Epcot.  I walked slowly with my cane accompanied by one of my kids and met up with my fam a little later.  I was having a great time.  I couldn't ride any rides, but my wife and kids were having a blast.  It was a fun, fun day.

     But, I'd pushed it.  4 hours (gasp!).

     That 4 hours, although I didn't know it at the time with my stimulator and Actiq, which is Fentenyl 200 micro-gram lollipops, masked the pain.  Masked it really well.

     By the 3rd day, I was at 2 hours of walking and sitting, MAX!  Sleep was a near impossibility.  I was now maxing-out my daily high-end of Actiq.

      I'd decided to sell the house and move to Disney World to avoid the car to the airport, flight to New York, and car from LaGuardia Airport in New York to home.  Not a bad idea.  Real estate price differences would make me a pile of dough.  The only problem was that I'd have to live in Orlando.  Not that that's so bad, but I'm a New Englander a dearly love my seasons, particularly Winter.

     Well, we all made it home, safe and sound.  And I'm proud of my daughter, love my wife, worship my kids, and we're all back to the daily grind.  I'm also proud of myself.  Yeah, yeah I faced my fear.

     Each night we were in Florida, I went out onto the terrace, closed the door and said a small prayer.  I thanked Him for the strength to learn the physical cost of a trip to Florida with my family.  I thanked Him for His beautiful world.  I felt loved and rewarded.  It hurt, but He took me there and He took me home.  It's like the love I experience everyday in my family; sometimes it hurts, but the love is forever.  The pain goes away.

     Would I try again to take a trip with my family?  Yes, without reservation.  He showed me that He helps, if I try. Colin

      

A Content Man Already Has What He Wants

        And that, my friends, is as true a statement about contentment that you'll ever read.  Nearly everyday, someone, often strangers, wish me well; buck me up by encouraging me to "hang tough" or feel better.  "Don't lose hope!"  Kind sentiments are always well recieved.

     A nice woman, Redonka, left a note for me on the MyBlogLog site (a great networking site for bloggers, www.mybloglog.com) saying, "I hope everything works out."  Thank you.  With deep sincerity I assure you, IT IS WORKING OUT.  It's working just the way it's supposed to.

     When I was younger, from my early teens through my mid-thirties, I was always too busy living my life to pay much attention to it.  Not to say I wasn't self-aware or reflective. I was...just not in a very high degree.  Life was the ocean, ice cold water on a swelteringly hot day.  It's impossible to wade slowly into cold, cold water.  No...the entrance begins fifty yards up the beach from knee depth back onto hot sand passing quickly through a mad dash across the beach and a wild dive, hopefully into an angry wave.  Come-up spitting seawater with a lightning flash, brain- freeze headache followed by enough powerful strokes to clear the wave break, and farther out to deep water where the seals swim.  That was life.  No time for thinking with so much to do!

   Then, I got hurt.  I haven't a moment without pain.  I'm limitted to long periods of laying in bed and short periods of errands, trips to the rehab Hospital and to the acupuncturist; bouts of exhaustion and the fog of painkiller narcotics, and worst of all, thinking about life instead of living life.

     But, things always change. Gradually, through a spiritual awakening, a wise priest and a loving God, I've come to a point of actually being busy.  Today, I haven't got enough time to DO what I must today; nor, did I complete my agenda yesterday.

     Miraculous.  A simple idea morphed from a self-indulgent ward against boredom into an important part of my on going recovery.  This blog has changed me.  It's forced me to look deeply inside of myself and at the same time to take action, to write.  It is among my most important therapies.

     I'm going to stop here.  I'm not done with this subject, as I'm not done with living my life.  I fear I've done a rather poor job of introducing the idea  of finding that middle ground between (rashly?) living life and (numbly?) thinking about living life.

     I'll end with a simple thought: even the act on not doing something requires a deeply important reflection on my life.  As I write, I'm pole-axed by the words in the Lord's Prayer..."Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done."  What could be more important?  God bless, Colin

A Fearful Moral Inventory

        When asked, most of us could complete a pretty thorough moral inventory of ourselves. 

     We know when we were sleeping,

     We know when we're awake.

     WE KNOW WHEN WE'VE BEEN BAD...

      So be good for goodness sake.

     I left out the "...or good" part of the lyric, because I forgot it.  Just like I forget it when I work on my own inventory; I'll bet many of us leave that part out, too.  There are many times in our lives when we've selflessly done good things.  Just recalling those instances feels like bragging.  But, that feeling is incorrect, as wrong as if we omitted the times when we've been creeps.

     Just last week I was thinking about going to Confession (if you haven't figured out by now that I'm a Catholic then it's time for new glasses) but for some reason, I was afraid to go. 

    How stupid!  I believe that God not only knows my name, but could tell you as accurately as Santa Claus, every single one of my slightest transgressions, even those I don't act upon.  It's not as if there's anything to hide.  So what was it that frightened me so much that I couldn't bring myself to go?

     It wasn't the priest.  Unlike the days of my childhood, when the Monsignor would chase me from the confessional, howling my name to STOP IMMEDIATELY, so that he might give me a pop with the shillelagh for stealing cherries from the market; today priests emphasize that they themselves are sinners as much as anyone else.  Nice change, that.  I like my confessor.  He's a good guy and a fearless spiritual guide who I love and trust. 

     I was really at loggerheads with myself over this fear.  So I called the Parrish office and spoke with my priest and told him I was afraid to come into Confession, whereupon he scheduled me for an appointment 15 minutes from the time of that conversation. 

     If you are like me, you too lost the ability to commit most of the heavyweight mortal sins when you were diagnosed with arachnoiditis.  I think my priest usually caught a few ZZzz's at many of my previous monthly confessions because I'd become so dull.  Before I became disabled, I was good for a whopper or two every month.  Now...like I said, I'm pretty dull.

     Well, that's what I thought going in anyhow. 

     Now look at the lyric, and add back in the words, "...or GOOD, so be good for goodness sake."  Ask this, good for who's sake?  Answer:  God's sake. 

     I do little good deeds.   I correct the cashier at McDonald's and always give back the right change.  I hold door open in elevators if I notice someone running to get aboard.  Little habits.  Good deeds that haven't yet eliminated weapons of mass destruction from the face of the earth.  The priest and I talked about that little things, then we talked about big good deeds.

     We talked about how much harder it's become to do a little good deed since I've become hurt.  He suggested that prayer, thanking God that these opportunities haven't been removed from my life because of my disability is called for  I do now:  Thank you , God; for Your glory I do these things.

     But at the begining of this essay I had mentioned fear.  I couldn't admit to God or man that through the power of Faith, I'm a good guy.

     When I was in college I was popular. I captained a team; we achieved second in the nation, we competed internationally, I was invited to try-out for the US Crew Team...really good stuff.  I had friends, girls who swarmed me like bees to honey, and an ego that couldn't easily be contained on Earth.  And I knew a guy, who was my polar opposite.

     He was pathologically shy, covered with acne, fat, really strange looking, ate like a hog at the trough and didn't have a friend in the world.  He and I were freshmen living on the same floor of the freshmen dorm.  He and I, by mistake, watched ballgames in the TV lounge sharing a true love for baseball.

     One day he bumped into me in the hall and invited me to go with him to the stadium to see a rookie phenom.  Very reluctantly I said yes, hoped no one saw me with him and went to the game.

     He was awkward, so was I.  We'd both sat silently for a couple of innings, then tried conversation, each of us speaking at the same time. But as time passed  we became more comfortable with one another, and by the fifth, were calling pitches:  12/6 curve, slider down and away, he's owned this bum all night he's going back up the ladder, etc.  By the end of the night, we were easy enough talking about the game. 

    We went again. Together we saw maybe 20 games that year, and became friends.  Nonetheless, he was still a very awkward guy to the extent that if I saw him on campus and said "Hi", he'd ignore me, as he was ignored by the entire student body.

     My friends made fun of me.  Why would I hang-out with this loser in the TV lounge; why would we go to games together?  What if someone saw me with him?

     Our sophomore year began as the first had ended, but with a small change: he had 2 new friends, then a short while later 4, then a small cliche.  I gradually stopped going to games with them, although he and I became better friends.

      By our Senior year, his genius had been recognized and he was off to MIT on some special program.  He was still a slob, a goof, a misfit, but no longer a complete social basket case.

     This strange friendship ends here.  I've not seen or heard from him since.  I'm sure he went on to do some important things in a lab; sure as hell he couldn't mix with people.  I miss him.

     Our spending time together may have been one of the more important things I've done in my life: I was just a good guy to another person who needed a friend.  He didn't need me as much as I needed him. 

     These small acts reveal themselves now as much larger than they seemed at the time.  Hence my fear: sometimes I'm just a plain old good guy.  I can say it now.  He wanted me to do that...and I did it.

Subject: Attitude

       This post is submitted by a reader, by email, to me.  Without the expressed permission of the writer, it is posted anonymously.  I like it so much that I urge the writer to drop me another note claiming authorship.

     This writer "gets it."  Sure, we suffer pain.  In truth it's hard for me to consistently view this pain as simply a state of the human condition, as another writer suggests in a comment beneath the post, Pain Unto Despair."  As both writer's suggest, the spiritual choice at our daily fork in the road is best made with the faith and knowledge that God only gives us what we are able to handle, no more no less.  Let's face that choice with a smile and a prayer of thanks.  His will be done.

Subject: Attitude

There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.

"Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today!" So she did and she had a wonderful day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she had only two hairs on her head. "H-M-M," she said, "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today!" So she did and she had a grand day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head. "Well," she said, "today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail!" So she
did and she had a fun, fun day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.

"YEA!" she exclaimed, "I don't have to fix my hair today!"

Attitude is everything. Have a Good Day!

Pain unto Despair

     C. S. Lewis said, "...there is no greater proof of sinful pride, than the belief in one's own humility."  Many of us bravely suffer unrelenting pain; unfortunately for me, I take great pride in my ability to suffer humbly.  I miss Lewis's point entirely.  I don't complain.  Thus my humility, but I make sure that everyone sees my cane.

     Lewis also writes about God and pain.  If God is good, and the Lord Jesus Christ is love and forgiveness, then why would he cause me pain?  Thus the true link between pain and His love. He sacrificed his only son so that all sins may be forgiven and that we may enjoy life everlasting, to a human death of unimaginable pain.  I wonder if His love is possible without the visitation of that pain?

     In the here and now, is it a Job like test?  Job does not yield in his belief despite his pain.  This seems to indicate a Holy love that springs from blameless suffering.  But what if this pain is something else?  What if it's punishment?

     How about punishment? The Bible is full of stories of God disciplining His children.

     Maybe thought, my pain is a path that leads me closer to God. Why does a  blameless man die on a cross of pain? He died not for himself, but for all men, then, now, and in the future.  Pain so strong it killed God so that the scripture might be fulfilled. Yet it was pain that made forgiveness and mercy possible; pain as the path to everlasting life.  This stuff's pretty confusing. Christians believe this.  I'm a Catholic, but I've really struggled to understand these things. I suppose all religions, even a formal lack of religion, struggle with the conundrum of life and human suffering.

     Puzzles too big for me.

     But I know this, pain in the absence of belief, is only pain to despair.  Surely, there's more to life than just pain for pain's sake, as most of us, believers or not,  would have to admit. We still enjoy friendships, a joke, a picture, a ballgame, a child.

     For me, I believe in something bigger than my little world. "Something" for me, is God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.   For you, whatever you believe in is something that's bigger than you are.  This something is also a "First Cause", the beginning. 

     You may call it science.  It really doesn't matter,  I think it matters that we believe in something : God, science (which I consider just a manifestation of God) or giant magical door knobs.   What you may believe is not mine or anybody else's to judge. 

     I think we must believe in something, otherwise what's the point:  Pain unto despair?

Ecce Homo

"In giving advice, seek to help, not please, your friend"

     The Latin phrase, ecce homo, means, behold, the man.  It's as if you've discovered the man for the first time.  It is a strange balance when writing this type of blog, because there is inevitably the introduction of oneself;  and at the same time an imperative, as the writer, to hold fast to one's impressions and opinions, thoughts and experiences because many readers look for commonality, and at the very least deserve the bald faced truth.

     I wanted to write this so that you might understand why Anne and I do it.  Think about it.  A lot of the time, we share too much--hell, sometimes it's damned embarrassing.  (You should see what we don't post!).  Anne and I have an understanding.  To do any good at all, you do have to fess-up to fears, mistakes, and failures.  But you also admit to triumphs, courage, and successes.

     The unintended consequence is friendship.  Consider the anonymity that's build into an email address.  Shoot, you could say the 10 worst things in your life, change you're address and you'd be gone.  The friendships develop quickly because we know that we won't be bumping into one another in the vegetable aisle at the supermarket; we tend to be free and open.  It's nice.

     Gradually some people begin to share more of their private lives, like photo's and phone numbers.  When I'm feeling low, I don't hit the phone, I check my emails.

     I read the names and the nicknames, knowing that I can say whatever I want.  I know that I can be truly honest and that most of those people will still be there tomorrow.  Hell, I get panicky if someone doesn't reply quickly enough for me, and feel relief when I finally see their email address where it belongs.  In my in box.

     We built this site to lead by example.  You too, are always welcome to dump what you need to in this bin; hell, you never know if what you write touches someone else.

     Judging from the in-box, a lot more than I ever expected.

How Close is God?

       Some people believe He's very close to us, all the time.  I was told that He's closest when people experience their greatest pain.  That's when the prayers arrive express.

      God was so close to Job, that He spoke to him.  That old saying, like old old sayings, has real merit, There are no atheists on a battlefield.  Bibles sometimes stop bullets.  Crazy improbably coincidences save lives.  Our darkest fears and nightmares fall away with the morning light.

      At the same time however, God allows us to feel pain. From the perspective of a stalk of Barley that stalk is wickedly tortured, and in the vivid lyrics of "John Barleycorn Must Die," changes into a keg of beer.  Transformation occurs from a stalk of grass to a beverage.  The stalk has no consciousness, though.  Neither do we when it comes to another plan. God's Plan.  God and His intentions exist in a place beyond our understanding, in the same way that I stalk of grass could understand that it will become a loaf of bread.

      A man of faith told this story.  Assume man is a lump of clay, God's clay.  Imagine the tortures the lump of clay would experience in its being changed into a pot.  Would pounding hurt? How about endless spinning on a potter's wheel?  Cutting with tools, think of the pain of flesh being stripped away.  Drying, think of thirst: then the enormous heat of a kiln endured by the clay.  What then of glazing, and more fire...until at last the piece of clay, man is changed from a useless lump of clay, to a beautiful pot.  The "pain" didn't kill the clay, but it did transform it.

      And now, what of us?  Are we being transformed?  How will we be different when this process is through?  A pot sometimes shatters in the kiln or falls from a shelf.  Who picks up the pieces.

     What lump of clay that you know of ever knew that it might become anything, let alone a thing of beauty."...He so loves us...", that he is with us through our changes.

     And yes, as a potter at the wheel he guides our transformation so that we become beautiful and serve a purpose we may never understand.  God Bless, Colin

     

God Came to Earth, Then We Killed Him

    Did you ever see those bumper stickers and placards in the end zone at a Notre Dame football game that say, John 3:16?

    I'm embarrassed to say that until recently, I didn't even know the passage it referred to.

     It's really about one thing: Love.  Within this famous passage is a snippet that I think is really important. it says, among other things"...for God SO loved the world..." He So loved us, that he gave his son to us, we killed him, so that we might have eternal life.

     What do you so love, more than anything else, that you might surrender it unto death, but through such a sacrifice you might save, or help another?  Who would do such a thing?  Would you, would I give up my wife or children to excruciatingly painful death, to save some one we didn't even know?

    I like to frame my suffering in a context beyond myself.  Yes, it hurts like Hell, but in a spiritual sense the pain of my disease doesn't scratch the paint of real suffering.  Would I, if I could, give my pain to another? Would I accept a gift, as if by magic, the killing of an innocent, so that I might not suffer any more?  OF COURSE NOT.  Look at the other side, would I accept, personally, a painful death to save another?  Depends who it is.  But in John 3:16, God gives his Son, for all men. Why, because He, God, so loved the world.  A beautiful mystery.

     That "why" bangs at me.  Why would God do that?  Why did he save me from booze?  Why is my life so full of loving people?  They never used to be there.  So I pray. I ask for understanding, try to give a helpin hand, try to accept them, too.  And I try to own what's mine by admitting I need help, in His World.

     My beliefs are mine. Yours are yours and it's not my place, for sure, to suggest what you believe.  I do urge you to believe in something, if only to put your pain into a context outside of yourself.  But, at the same time, I encourage you to do what works for you.

     For God so loved the world, that he gave his only
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should
not perish, but have everlasting life. (John 3:16)

     That's what makes it possible for me to not quit.

     I know that this is a deeply religious topic.  It's mine, and it may be yours.  If however it is not, and you are bothered please know that I will publish anything you write to the contrary.  This site encourages the free expression of ideas; we do not censor opposing opinions. In fact, Anne and I will publish them. If you desire anonymity, please ask and your screen name and identity will be protected from public view. God bless, Colin

    

Scottie! Reverse the Polarity!... But, Captain!...NO BUTS, JUST DO IT!!!!!

   Just a quick thought:

How many of us wake-up in pain?

versus

How many of us wake-up in anticipation of pain?

Do you think it's possible that the anticipation of pain causes pain?  Do you ever wake-up, looking forward to doing something: writing a post, or taking a photo, or reading the paper, or doing a soduko puzzle, or looking at your spouse or partner, or checking your email?

I've received so many emails from people who say their pain is lessened when they have something to do, besides worshiping at the altar of pain. Trust me for a sec': Yes, we all have some hellacious stretches, hours, days, weeks; unfortunately, these can't be avoided.

But dammit, I'm not starting my day with narcotics if there's any other alternative.

Sometimes all it takes is a laugh, or the thought that I've got a post to write to make me feel, not okay, but good. Not always, sometimes not often, but thank God, often enough. 

Thing is I have some control over this. God bless us all.

C.S. Lewis said...

"...there is no greater proof of sinful pride, than the belief in one's own humility."

Lewis also writes about God and pain.  If God is good, and the Lord Jesus Christ is love and forgiveness, then why would he cause me pain?

Is it a Jobian test?  Job does not yield in his belief despite his pain.

How about punishment? The Bible is full of stories of God disciplining His children.

Maybe thought, my pain is a path that leads me closer to God. Why does a  blameless man die on a cross of pain? He died not for himself, but for all men, then, now, and in the future.  Pain so strong it killed God so that the scripture might be fulfilled. Yet it was pain that made forgiveness and mercy possible; pain as the path to everlasting life.  This stuff's pretty confusing. Christians believe this.  I'm a Catholic, but I've really struggled to understand these things. I suppose all religions, even a formal lack of religion struggles with the conundrum of life and human suffering.  My life today is a life of chronic, severe nerve pain, so I feel paricularly close to this topic.

These puzzles though are too big for me.

But I know this, pain without belief, may just be pain to despair.  Surely, there's more to life than just pain for pain's sake as most of us, believers or not,  would have to admit. We still enjoy friendships, a joke, a picture, a ballgame, a child.

For me, I believe in something bigger than my little world. "Something" for me, is God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.   For you, whatever you believe in "something" is something that's bigger than you.  It matters to believe in something.  What you may believe is not mine or anybody elses to judge. 

I think we must believe in something, otherwise what's the point?  Pain unto despair?

I'll say God, or Jesus Christ.  You say whatever you want. From a  man with a white beard, to absolutely nothing except the perfection of a mathematical formula.

Macolm Muggerige chooses life or death

      Malcolm Muggeridge was born in 1903, and passed away in 2002. In his life he enjoyed the fame that attends many journalists. He was a cynical, funny, skeptic who rose to the position of editor of the British high tone humor magazine, Punch. Less kind descriptions of him are that he was also a vicious curmudgeon. He converted to Catholicism and was often heard to say, "It's Jesus Christ for me or nothing."

     He also told this story.  Years ago 3 men, a man his son and his son's friend were yachting in the British channel, when one of those freak storms hit the yacht capsizing it.  The pilot, a good swimmer, was quickly able to reach the boat. but had only one lifeline. Who to save?  His son, or the son's friend?  The yachtsman know both young men well knew that one of the two was in most senses of the word, a good man with a strong belief in the saving power of a loving, forgiving god.  The other was a bit of a poltroon-a playboy, atheist, gambler who seemed only to care for himself.

     It was to the latter, the scoundrel, who the yachtsman threw the line. The second man was saved, but the yachtsman son died.  The yachtsman was Muggeridge.  When asked later, why he didn't save his own son he replied that he believed his son would enjoy everlasting life, but Muggeridge could not bear the cost to his own soul if he allowed the scoundrel to die without having the chance to save his own soul.

     That second man preached this sermon at Muggeridge's funeral. Thus the redemption of a sinner who not only returned to God's fold, but became a priest as well.

     We face daily pain, and I believe that if we offer that pain as what we have to give to God and men today, if we throw a lifeline, then we've truly done his work. And that's the truth as I see it. God Bless, Colin

A Quick summary of what I'm doing to get better

1. Accept that my life has changed, and that it's my responsibility to make the most of what I am.
2. I believe in God, and pray for help. I also thank God for a shot at a new and different life.
3. Build a team of medical supporters who know me, know what I want and take their advice.
4. Good days and bad days just happen.
5. Look at the big problem, break it into it's smaller component problems then solve for these smaller problems. The big problem then starts to fix itself.
6. Do something positive and different every day--even if it's tiny. Remember any plan attempted today is better than a great plan scheduled for tomorrow.
7. Stop feeling sorry for myself, and look at how my life has changed all of those lives around me.

I'm no saint, I do the best I can and I screw-up more often than I'm successful. All I can do is my best.