Thursday 27 January 2011

Two in the morning

And I hear the steady breathing of the one I love, next to me, indicating deep sleep.

On my feet, her snores resounding and vibrating like an old motorcycle, lies our old chocolate Labrador.

The youngest child has just popped in to say they can't sleep.

And here I am, coughing, wheezing and generally yeuk, thinking about. Well to be honest, a jumble of things. A mishmash of sensible, irrational and some just plain weird thinking (so I'm 'normal' for me I guess).

My thoughts have focussed on healing and what we should expect, how we should engage with it and why and how we should approach it when the door opens again. "my ear hurts," is just about intelligible through the sobs. So I move over and allow the baby between us, thoughts gone - need before me!

If God healed everyone, then Church would be full of people wanting the 'full service' and a pain-free, comfortable existence. If God healed no one, then He'd have a hard job convincing people of His love, power or presence. Is healing the reason some come into Church, and if so, are they happy consumers?

If He chooses to heal some, but not others, is He a mean, selective, judgmental or even capricious being?

Pain is part of life and without it can we understand what 'painless' is? I recall reading a book 'Puzzle of Pain' by Robert Melzack. On this book, it described people who had a congenital inability to feel pain. They damaged joints because, feeling no discomfort, they rarely shifted their weight. Knees were the first to go! Feeling no pain, they scald or dear flesh when in the kitchen. Pain is what helps us to protect ourselves and supports living a long and secure (physically and mentally/emotionally) life.

But when this valuable and little lauded attribute of life comes knocking, perhaps with words like 'terminal' and classifications that include 'malignant', what then?

What do we do when, "Pain goes bad?"

This is something I need to understand, especially in a life that sees people bringing their sick, and their dead, to my door. When they come from nought to ninety and need a friend. Need to understand. Need just a touch from God, where am I?

Trite words, made hollow by the non-appearance of healing (and is What they think healing is the same as mine?), muttered platitudes or hollow excuses ("Where is your god? Perhaps he's on the toilet!").

What is it we bring to the party? How do we do it? How do we pray?

Do we set those who come to us up for a disappointment or God to look absent or impotent because of the way we pray and the expectations we have (or perhaps don't have!). How do we pray in 'God's Name'?

And then the question. "what about those who are healed?"

Pax

3 comments:

UKViewer said...

I often think that healing of the spirit is the thing that God does, healing of the flesh is down to our genes, circumstances and perhaps the will to be well or not.

I often read of those who overcome severe ailments and survive. Most recently, a veteran of the Japanese POW camps passed aged 95. He had been unwell for years, but always rallied, until finally it appears he was overwhelmed and died. Something inside - his spirit, which had remained strong while a POW despite ill treatment, beatings, starvation, disease etc and had allowed him to be a prime mover for reconciliation with Japan post-war. His memorial service is tomorrow afternoon and the Japanese Embassy will be represented at his funeral.

Throughout his captivity and lifelong he maintained a strong Christian faith and attended church even in his final weeks.

For me he is a modern-day Saint, whose uncomplaining lifestyle and fortitude is an example of a Christian life, lived close to the path that Jesus walked. I hope that I am able to face my maker as he undoubtedly has to be welcomed home.

Anonymous said...

'Steady breathing' - not snoring then? :P

Vic Van Den Bergh said...

@ Anonymous: No, never (gulp) . . .Well, hardly ever :)