Pain is a great teacher. Constant pain is an aggressive teacher. Last year I shared a little about my experience with chronic pain and it really connected with people. It was one of my most popular posts ever. In it I talked about how my constant pain was probably responsible for me being a fitness model (to read that post click here).
If you’ll allow me to I’d like to follow that up with a few lessons I’ve learned from my experience with pain. But I don’t want you to read this and think I’m belittling anyone who deals with chronic pain. I also don’t want you to read this and think I don’t know what I am talking about, so let me share a little of my story.
I’ll start by saying that I am in a lot of pain every second of every day of my life. I was born with a medical condition called a tarsal coalition, which basically means that instead of a free moving ankle joint the bones in my feet rub together. This causes lots of pain. All the time. There has never been a moment in my life when I have not been in pain.
As you can imagine this pain get worse when I walk or run or workout or play sports. But the pain is present no matter what. It affects my sleep. It affects my mood. It affects every area of my life. Before I do something as simple as walking to the kitchen to get a drink of water I have to consider how much pain it will cost me and determine if it is worth it. The physical pain is made worse by the emotional pain. I cannot tell you the amount of times I have had to crawl on my hands and knees to go to the restroom at night because I literally cannot walk. It’s humbling. And it’s embarrassing.
I have tried every conceivable thing to ease the pain. From shoe inserts to physical therapy to surgery. None of them have worked. The only thing that lowers the pain level to a somewhat manageable level is cortisone shots. The first time I got my ankles injected I cried because I had never felt that much relief before.
I’m not telling you any of this so you’ll feel sorry for me. I have never wanted the attention my constant limp gets me. I prefer not to talk about my chronic pain and have gone my whole life trying to hide it from people. I don’t tell people about my pain, because my pain is not for them, it’s for me.
But if my pain can help others, I’m willing to share. Pain has taken a lot of things from me, but I came up with a few things it has given me. Here are three lessons pain has taught me.
How to be tough
A few years ago I walked into the office of an ankle specialist in Los Angeles to get a second (or eighth) opinion. It had been twelve years since my unsuccessful surgery and I wanted to know if there was anything new I could try. The overweight and out-of-shape doctor walked into the exam room with a heavy limp and said hello. Tarsal coalitions are pretty rare so I was surprised when he seemed very familiar with my condition. He spoke for a moment and then pulled up his pant leg to show me a brace on one of his ankles. He explained that he had the same condition as I had, but only in one ankle. He was surprised I could even walk without a brace, much less be fit enough to play sports. We spent most of the time talking about how I had two bad ankles but managed to stay in good shape with the same condition he had in one ankle and could barely walk.
That conversation made me realize something. Pain, like most things in life, is a weapon. It can be used for you or against you. And which way it is used is your choice. My pain has always challenged me. It angers me. Whenever I am in such excruciating pain that even the thought of doing an activity hurts, I make myself do it anyway. Because I refuse to let the pain make that decision for me. I refuse to be scared of the pain. So I lean into it. I embrace it. I challenge it. And that has made me a tougher person.
Pain is a weapon. You can let it cut you down every day, or you can use it to become something greater than what you once were. This philosophy isn’t for everyone, but it works for me. Your pain will make you into something, and you get to determine what that something is. It will make you bitter or it will make you better. It will make you stronger or it will make you weaker. Choose wisely.
What can your pain make you that you wouldn’t otherwise be?
How to be empathetic
Because I am in constant pain I am able to better understand the aggravation pain can cause others. I can be more patient with other people because I understand; sometimes the pain gets to me too. I spent time being wheelchair bound so I am able to better understand people who live with disabilities. Pain has changed my perspective.
I am afraid of the day when I will no longer be able to walk on my own. I know the day will come when I can no longer walk and I dread its arrival. That fear and dread help me better understand others who live with the constant fear that often comes along with constant pain.
I’ve learned that I can be thankful for the pain because it means I can still walk. Some people can’t do that. I can be thankful for the pain because it means I am alive. The pain lets me feel emotions I might never otherwise feel. In fact, I am currently outlining my next novel. The main character is tough to write because he is confined to a wheelchair. I could never write this novel without having spent time in a wheelchair myself.
Much like I’m attempting to do with this post, I want to use my pain help others.
Who can your pain help?
How God uses pain
God uses pain. This is often a hard concept to wrap our heads around. We don’t want to think about God in relation to our pain. God is love. Pain is evil. That is what we want to think. And it’s true. BUT. But that doesn’t mean God doesn’t use our pain. The Bible promises that “we know that God works all things together for good for the ones who love God.” That’s a big promise, because it means that God can somehow make our pain work for good. This does not mean that he causes our pain, but it means he can somehow use it.
God can use my constant pain for a greater good.
My other post talked about how my chronic pain is responsible for me being a fitness model so I won’t repeat that story. I will only say that without the constant pain I’ve had with every step I have ever taken in my life I wouldn’t be who I am today. Through the pain God has given me the gift of a very high pain threshold that has translated into the very thing my bad ankles try to keep me from; living a fit and healthy life. And the discipline I learned from the pain has translated into discipline in other areas of my life. Such as writing a novel or this post you are currently reading. The strength that comes from fighting pain has translated into enough strength to try to conquer Hollywood.
C.S. Lewis calls pain God’s megaphone. In The Problem of Pain he wrote, “We can ignore even pleasure. But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”
What is God trying to tell you through your pain?
