The Problem of Pain

The title of this blog is taken from an excellent book written by one of my favorite authors, C.S. Lewis. With that being said, I’m going to need you to stop for a minute and say the title with a thick British accent, just like Lewis would. In order to do this, you need to say the first four letters of ‘problem’ as if they are popping out of your mouth like a balloon. Just as soon as you say that, suck the ‘lem’ back in and chew on the ‘M.’ When saying the word ‘pain,’ just emphasize the ‘a’ and that should do the trick. It makes no matter to me how you say the articles, because they are not important. After saying this, you are now in the right mindset to finish reading this blog, in a right, well-read sort of manner. Steaming hot tea and tiny sandwiches are also acceptable when reflecting on how Lewis himself would recite his own book titles.

I feel like a comical prose to start this entry is needed, because tonight I am coming from a frustrated frame of mind. I am lying in a very tall, queen-size fluffy bed with a small desk lamp lighting the room. Thick, round logs are serving as beams on the ceiling about 7 feet above me, and fireflies are lighting up the night sky outside. I am tucked away in the North Carolina Mountains, visiting my grandmother, aunt and uncle for the 4^th of July weekend. My mom has one brother and one sister, and together with my grandparents and their prospective families, they built this log cabin I am resting in, by hand, over 25 years ago. I love coming up to this quaint little town known as Brevard. Seeing the mountains, hearing the stream right outside the window, and sampling the peanut butter fudge at the local general store make me forget about e-mails and car payments.

I wanted to talk about something flowery before I dissected something that caused me pain, and the problem that surrounds that issue. To start, I’d like to share a dream I have. I have two younger brothers, and as a group of three, we are pretty close. Since I’ve gotten a little older, I’ve started to think about how much fun it’s going to be when we all start getting married and having children. I can’t wait to put my new screaming baby in the arms of my brother Blake, and call up Hunter and get him to photograph my child’s first birthday. We are going to have such a fun time during holidays and birthdays, just being a family and loving and supporting each other. In dreaming and getting excited about these things, I’m sitting here at the cabin watching my mom not having the same interactions with her brother. She and my aunt are close, but her brother is just completely hardened in his own selfish desires and stubborn beliefs about the world and difficult. He hides the fact that he has no real relationships with his children behind his biting, sarcastic remarks and racists comments. He walks all over you with his booming voice by talking over the answers you are trying to give to his questions. He spits out remarks to my brother’s apparently ‘gay’ wardrobe and continues to give us wet willies like a 13-year-old would do to the girl he likes. He stands in front of you trying to be a King when the image he is actually portraying is nothing but a filthy, half-hearted version of himself. And that’s sad.

The problem here is not in his actions, although they bring hurtful consequences. The problem is in the pain that is hidden beneath all of that grime that he tries to mask as humorous jokes. And it broke my heart seeing him rebuke the only relationships that are unbreakable, his family. For a brief moment, amidst the sheer frustration, I felt as Jesus would feel. Standing before his brother saying, “Why won’t you just come to me? I want to make your yoke light and restore your relationships.” But my uncle won’t accept the help. He’s too much of a ‘man’ for that.

So I spent the rest of the night like a full cup of water, trying to fight the surface tension and spill all of my emotions over the edge. I expressed my frustrations through very colorful language to my mom as we walked the dogs, but got nowhere. I tried to relax on the back porch, drinking a cup of coffee, but it was a different instance that tipped my cup over. My mom and I were sitting on the porch, enjoying a cool Carolina evening and sipping on some steamy coffee. My brother was on the other side of the porch, swinging on the old wooden swing, listening to his iPod. I was holding my coffee cup in my left hand, lifting it up to my lips, when I glanced over to my brother and watched him swing so hard that the entire swing flipped him backwards, landing him on his neck. I immediately reacted, dropped the cup, spilling the sticky syrup all over my hand as I rushed over to him. He was lying on his side moaning, and I started praying over his head. The cup full of emotions brimming in my body rushed up to my eyelids and starting streaming over my cheeks onto my brother. I love my brother very much, and seeing him almost crack his skull sent me reeling.

To calm your nerves, my brother is fine. Aside from a bump on the noggin and a good scare, he is right as rain. But this little incident brought all of my feelings of pain for my uncle to a head. You see, the problem isn’t the pain itself; it’s the root of the pain. It’s the reason that certain person in your life is lashing out with sarcasm, or making inappropriate comments about that certain race, or this certain male’s outfit. And then the pain transfers to the loved ones, who are generally the receivers of the wrath, but not the ones who are allowed to step in and help you dissect the root issue. It’s a sticky situation to be in, on every side of the issue. But no matter what, I will fight for unity and love with my brothers and their families. Tonight highlighted my love for my family, and the fact that it originates from Christ and his wellspring of love. Confrontation, conflict, and restoration are vital to the survival of a family or any kind of relationship really, and when properly executed and received, it can dynamically transform your relationships. It can make life easy; well, easier, and make family reunions, birthdays, and holidays times worth looking forward to instead of dreading.  Instead of walking your dog in frustration, you will walk him because the breeze is easy and the trail is lush; it can be the new American way. Let’s try it.