Tim’s Blog, Summer 2023
I usually try to use humor to help get a point across—a good story with a hearty laugh is something most of us welcome. There is none of that in this article. This past year’s time has been a hard one for our church community. I won’t go into details—some of you know the pain and grief suffered here. Everyone however suffers pain and grief; no one escapes. I want to talk about times in life when we have to bear the unbearable. What follows is the story of someone who bears the unbearable almost every day:
“There is a chemotherapy nurse in a children’s cancer ward, whose job it is to pry for any available vein in an often emaciated arm to give infusions of chemicals that sometimes last as long as twelve hours and which are often quite discomforting to the child. He is probably the greatest pain-giver the children meet in their stay in the hospital. Because he has worked so much with his own pain, his heart is very open. He works with his responsibilities in the hospital as a “laying on of hands with love and acceptance.” There is little in him that causes him to withdraw, that reinforces the painfulness of the experience for the children. He is a warm open space which encourages them to trust whatever they feel. And it is he whom the children most often ask for at the time they are dying. Although he is the main pain-giver, he is also the main love-giver.”
The “main love-giver” is the blessed answer. One author I know defines grief as love with no where to go. Love and no one to share it with is sad indeed—also it can be unbearable.
The truth is, we are meant to live in community. We are meant to be “us” as we live our days. Love is the knowing and doing in the midst of people. It can be only one or two others where we are known and can share all the troubles of life. If not in our arms, we can hold them in our hearts. In the church community this follows St. Paul’s words in the Letter to the Galatians: “Bear one another’s burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ.” In the church or out, this word has its place. We need each other. In the story of the chemotherapy nurse, I would like to meet those he shares his burdens with—whose shoulder he can cry on and who open their hearts to help bear his grief and pain.
Isolation can be deadly. Oh yes, there are times when we want to be alone to put down the burdens of life and relax, or meditate, or think or dream—go to our happy place (sometimes a glass of wine helps.) But isolation is different. It is like being put out of the flow of humanity, left without much hope, staring out into dark skies. Our loved ones and friends become life itself to us. Is there any other way to bear the unbearable than to find loving people who will listen with a soft and compassionate heart? I think not. You may be surprised one day when a friend opens up to you about a burden too much to easily bear. Your response may not be more than listening and willingness to hear it all. A soft response is all that’s needed. “I’m so sorry. Thank you for sharing this with me. Life is so painful at times.” No answers. No advice. Answers do not exist. Only love.
I cannot get out of my mind the line, “It is he whom the children most ask for at the time they are dying.” Unbearable to me. Thank God for those who can respond with love.
Be close to your people—family and friends. Open your heart and your hands. Together we can bear the unbearable. We can heal ourselves and others, and together discover blessings in the midst of trouble and pain.
God bless you in your days and nights, joys and sorrows, family ties and friendships. —Tim
