Anniversary of Change

On October 15, 2012 I began a journey that changed my life. I never would have chosen whiplash; it wasn't part of my plan to become acquainted with the deep flexers of my neck and how invaluable they are in holding my head up each day. It wasn't part of my plan for whiplash to develop into chronic pain, or to live life in the face of the pain of the every day. It's something that colors everything; mind, body and spirit. Through it I learned an invaluable lesson, that God does not will us to suffer, but, as in all things, He can bring good from suffering.

Through this journey with chronic neck pain, I have become more myself, more authentic and more real. It is the great struggle of the strong-willed choleric to admit that they have weaknesses. To have visible and demonstrable physical weakness thrust upon me shattered me after the accident. The real and pressing fear that I was somehow made to be 'less' by whiplash kept me from seeing the truth. The truth that the body, though naturally limited, cannot limit the person. Or in other words, who I am does not change because I have chronic neck pain.

What limits is fear. Fear of being seen in weakness. It wasn't until I acknowledged my weakness that I was free to be enlivened by it. A huge tool in being set free from fear has been learning more about pain science. With a bio-psycho-social view of  pain, what has been uncovered is a whole person perspective that preserves the dignity of the patient. As the most effective and highly developed response the body has to danger, pain gradually shifts from a burden to an opportunity for change.

To dedicate the last two years to engaging my own pain has enlivened me in a way I never anticipated. Two out of the last four... not the best odds, but it speaks to the utter mercy of God. It is the call to authenticity in suffering that drives me forward each day.

A subtle differentiation worth making is the difference between expecting pain and being surprised by limitations and weakness. There is no keener torture than waking up in the morning expecting pain. It leaves no room for the gradual healing of body and mind. However, I fight my pride daily, in that I am continually surprised by my limitations. To live in humility is to know things as they are in truth, and in truth, I am limited. Prudence becomes an obedience to weaknesses, and the choices made throughout the day should preserve authenticity and truth.

It is through acknowledging my weakness and striving to engage it each day that I have experienced grace in the every day. Christ's wounds from the cross remained visible in His resurrection, and in His wounds I have found healing. God's love made new every moment.