Grant me the Grace to Desire it

I know it's been quite a while since my last post. Transparency is a journey, and one that I'm still learning from. Even reading my post from January makes me cringe a little now, since I have learned so much since then.

It's simply providential that when I was nearing he end of "From Aristotle to Darwin and Back Again" by Etienne Gilson, my intellect began to pivot toward the desire to study suffering. Having lived

with my own chronic pain in the everyday, I was surprised that I didn't have any resources in mind. A friend led me to "The Science of the Cross" by Edith Stein. It's a beautiful and life changing book, there is an unplumbed depth to her words and I am convicted that I will never be done contemplating them. Her first section is on detachment and it is not for the faint of heart. I knew not what I had started and so came upon this spiritual power house unawares. Praise God that I did! I wouldn't have been brave enough to read this book if I had. God moves in strange and mysterious ways, opening me to contemplate humility and providing me with a myriad of opportunities o discover what true humility looks like. It is this living life in an honest and unassuming way that you can earn whatever respect or accolades come your way. Sounds like I'm still working on my pride in that sentence, but look again. True humility is the knowledge and acceptance of truths as they are. To presume that you are worthy of respect and praise is the opposite of graciously waiting to be called upon. Humility also gives you a heightened awareness of what it means to be obedient. To trust those, who have been put in your life as authorities and to acquiesce to any task in obedience.

You can't go on a journey with humility without allowing The Litany of Humility to become your constant companion. After these months, it has become a dear friend. Now, one ought not force the Litany of Humility on the world, it seeks its own souls to teach. There is one particular line, that is the most striking to me.

"That others may become holier than I, provided that I become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it." 

This line encapsulates what it is to see and accept things as they are. This, too, is the root of detachment. Through a daily examine, to become intimately aware of your weaknesses, and to then allow God into them. For all good things come from Him. God did not desire my pain, but if I allow him entrance into those weaknesses, He may be glorified through them. I'm nearing the end of "The Science of the Cross" and every word is like honey, sweet and tart at the same time. That when a soul, fully aware of her weakness, allows God to permeate every part of her, then He is given the freedom to exalt in His own goodness, and those graces which He bestows on the soul. A soul perfectly consumed by Christ can then be cherished for her own sake, not simply for the sake of the grace given her by God.

Once on the road to humility, it opened me to living life fully alive in my pain. Pain is something that can easily prevent us from living life abundantly. Through our fallen nature, we feel that we 'do not have time for pain'. I know I certainly didn't think I had time to be weak and fatigued every day. However, to begin to accept life and its experiences as they are and to perhaps begin rearranging priorities, a soul must encounter the truth of the world as it is. Though I didn't think I had time for pain, the moment that I made room for it in my daily life, was the moment that I began to live life truly alive. Only when one sees the shackles that are preventing the soul from living life fully alive can she be freed to "Breathe the free air again."

"Breathe the free air again," (The Two Towers, JRR Tolkein)

With this desire to live life authentically once again firmly in mind, I began to read "Explain Pain" by David Butler and G. Lorimer Moseley. Life changing wisdom. When pain is seen as an output of the brain, then the pain experience is turned on his head. One of the easiest cloaks to hide under in pain is that "something is wrong." This is a natural understanding, as pain is our most resilient and highly functioning protective system. Pain is not bad, it protects us. Pain is the brain's answer to the question "How dangerous is this, really?" Persistent pain is an indication that your nervous system has become proficient in sensitizing the brain to danger, prompting the pain response. In the book, "Why do I Hurt" by Adriaan Louw, he uses an interesting image. In the initial injury, a lion walked into the room and your reaction probably saved your life! Good job brain! However, soft tissues typically heal in the first three to six months. Louw describes persistent pain as the lion following you through your every day life. "Explain Pain" allows me to say:

Second Hand Lions

While I still may have a lion hanging out on my back porch every day, I know he's there and I am more aware of those activities or movements that will make the lion seem more dangerous. This allows me to be an active participant in my pain, instead of a passive recipient. So I ride the wave of pain and look for a better outcome tomorrow. No one else can experience my pain, so it is up to me to accept my limitations and to be seen in my weakness. I could and probably will write another post more specifically on what I've learned in pain science, but for now it is good to see yet again that all things can be made good through God. That my experience of chronic pain can affirm my dignity as a person is truly strange and mysterious.

To prep you for any future pain science posts (give me another six months), please enjoy this video.