He holds our tears in pain

I know and trust Sarah Walton’s writing, as she has such integrity, living the truth of her words. I’ve also had the honour of her and her husband contributing to our book Grace-Filled Marriage. So I was delighted when she offered an edited extract of her new book, Tears and Tossings. It is longer than my usual posts, but well worth reading through. Sarah lives with chronic illness, as do her children and they have faced many other challenges as a family. Here, she focuses on finding hope within the pain.

I am no stranger to pain. As the years go by and chronic pain is a constant, I long for relief. This body often feels more like my enemy than my ally. Of all the difficulties and trials that I’ve faced, physical pain is often the most relentless and debilitating.

I’ll be the first to admit that physical pain can quickly bring us to the end of ourselves. At first, we may persevere with the hope and confidence that answers and healing are just around the corner, just waiting to resume life as normal. But when they aren’t, and we watch the life, abilities, and enjoyments we once had fade into the distance, disappointment, grief, despair, hopelessness, and bitterness can quickly seep into our veins. The questions are often not far behind: what did I do to deserve this? What purpose is there in a life consumed by pain? Is God punishing me for something? What hope do I have if this is the rest of my life?

There are certainly no simple answers or quick fixes, but over time, I’ve learned that there is hope to be found even in this place.

One true remedy

If you’ve dealt with any form of chronic pain or illness for very long, I’m sure you could share countless experiences of those who have shared dos and don’ts, treatments options, or bullet-proof solutions that healed their Uncle Bob or friend Judy. Although most people have good intentions, without fail those comments always come across as “you just haven’t done enough,” or “if you just do what I did, things will improve.” While we do need to be open and teachable to the wisdom and experiences of others, these solutions are never a guarantee and they always fall short of true comfort. There is only One who knows exactly what we need, when we need it, and how to provide it—God himself.

We can and should seek help when and where possible, but our hope can’t be in a doctor or treatment—because they’re never a guarantee. Our hope can’t be in “better days” ahead of us— because that may or may not come in our lifetime. And our hope can’t be in our own strength, resources, or wisdom—because we’re limited in our understanding and abilities.

But there is a remedy that never fails.

We can bring our pain to the One who created us and knows us better than we know ourselves. And if he created us, certainly he wants what’s best for us.

Clay pots

It helps me to think of it this way: in the Bible, God is described as the Potter and we as the clay. The Bible tells us that God carefully and lovingly creates and shapes each of us into form, with unique looks, talents, personalities, and purposes. Whether we know it or not, we all belong to him, the Potter. But after God created the world and us, we rejected him and rebelled against his good plan for us. Since that day, the cracks of sin, pain, suffering, and weakness have entered our lives. We try to mend those cracks with anything we can find, but the defect still remains. 

I’ve experienced the cracks made by my sinful choices, but I’ve also felt the painful cracks of illness and suffering of various kinds, simply from living in this sinful world. I can try to ignore that the cracks are there, or do what I can to fix them, but the reality is that I’m the pot—I simply can’t fix myself. Instead, I need to humble myself, admit that I’m broken and cracked, and return to God, my Potter, to be restored as he intended me to be.

As painful and frustrating (perhaps even debilitating) as these cracks may be, we are not hopeless because we still have access to the One who created us and wants to heal us. That doesn’t mean he will remove the crack of pain in this life, but when we’re restored back to the Potter, he promises full healing will one day come. In the meantime, he also assures us that those cracks won’t be wasted and pointless.

There’s a man in the Bible named Paul, who experienced countless forms of pain. Even after all of his suffering, he confidently wrote, “We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.” (2 Corinthians 4:7-9)

Centuries ago, people would use clay pots for many daily purposes, but when a pot would break, they wouldn’t throw it away as we might. Strangely enough, they’d use it to hold their most treasured possessions. That way, if thieves broke in, they’d likely ignore the broken and seemingly useless pot, missing the treasure it held inside.

What we see as irreversible weakness and pain, and cracks that render us purposeless, God sees as an opportunity to fill us with his power and strength to shine through those cracks. He gives us not just the privilege of having Jesus’ strength in us, but the treasure of his presence to shine through us to others.

Practical care in our pain

There are days when even though I believe God loves me and will not waste this pain in my life, the pain screams louder. I admit, there have even been days when life felt too bleak to go on.

But in these moments, I’ve also seen how practical and close God is to me. He doesn’t tell me to toughen up and deal with it; he meets me in practical ways that show he cares about my pain—giving me what I need to endure it.

There have been seasons when I felt beaten down and discouraged, only to have someone show up at my door, unannounced, with a lavish dinner that made us feel spoiled. At a time when I felt isolated and convinced no one could see my pain, a friend called just to say they were thinking of me and asked if they could visit to see how I was. And there have even been times when I felt crippled by pain, unsure of how I was going to fulfill a commitment, but then was miraculously pain free for the exact amount of time I needed to accomplish it—with the pain returning shortly after. Then again, at other times, I’ve still felt the pain, but somehow had the strength to endure it—a strength that was beyond myself.

There’s no sugarcoating how life-altering chronic pain can be. And we should always use whatever means God gives us to improve our situation. But whether we find physical relief or not, this truth and hope about God’s compassion and provision remains the same.

We may have cracks running through our lives—even some that threaten to break us completely. But these cracks are not meant to destroy us and render us useless. Rather, they are meant to lead us to the One who created us and is the only One who can fully heal, restore, and provide for what we need.

Your painful cracks don’t have to have the last word. Bring them to the Potter. For that’s where you will find healing for eternity, and strength and rest for today.

Tears and Tossings is available now, published by 10ofthose. Sarah’s other books are Hope When it Hurts and Together Through the Storms.

One thought on “He holds our tears in pain

  1. Sheila Johnson says:

    A great post, Claire. Very sobering and thought provoking. We who live a largely healthy and pain-free life should be aware of how much gratitude we owe to God and how much we need to give out to others. At least this is what I say to myself.

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