Is There an Aleve® for This Life?

Larry, my husband, reached the door ahead of me. "Is Debby home?" I heard her ask. Standing there - hot and sweaty, no make-up, hair in a ponytail, holding her dog on a leash - she still looked beautiful. Yet nothing could mask her pain. "Can we talk?" And talk we did. Seated on my screen porch, glasses of ice tea in hand, our hearts connected. As I listened, I ached. Hers was an agonizing, soul wrenching, beyond belief story. Pain punctuated her every sentence; pain punctuated her every pause. Could it get any worse?

Yet, this situation is not isolated. Our summer afternoon conversation mirrors other Could it get any worse? stories. Regularly, I drive home from Bible Study, Growth Group, and Home Group sobered. The dominant theme of pain ranks at an all time high - not the common aches and pains that accompany human life inside a body. Rather, I am referring to fist in the gut type of pain that threatens to take you out of the arena.

How can we cope with our silent companion that screams for attention? Is there an Aleve for life? As I ache alongside each relationship (and as I experience pain of my own) I conclude:

Pain is incorporated into life; it will never go away.

5 questions emerge from these real life situations:

1. What causes pain?

Pain springs from unwanted news: a diagnosis, a scan, a death, a phone call, a test result, an injury, a job notice, a letter in the post, a policeman at the door.

Pain comes with unforeseen circumstances: an unpaid bill, an unplanned illness, an unexpected rift in a relationship. 

Pain results from unanticipated crises: a career crisis, an emotional crisis, a financial crisis, a spiritual crisis, a child's crisis, a spouse's crisis. 

 So therefore,

2. What do we do with pain?

Pain refuses to be ignored. Pain possesses power, pain drives emotions, and pain pushes questions to the forefront of our minds. Ironically, pain never answers any of the questions it raises. You and I feel our humanness most when we find ourselves wrestling with pain. This leads me to a suggestion: give pain the attention it demands.

3. What not to do with pain?

Do not blithely say, "Oh, I'm fine." Painful disappointment, painful illness, painful news, painful rejection, and painful thinking, are all painful realities. Fake faith always fails in the face of pain. ‘Fake it til we make it’ carries long term, serious side effects. When you and I are in a hurting mess, we need Holy Help. In the face of pain, only heartfelt honesty can make possible heartfelt joy.

4. How do we make our peace with pain?

You and I must sift our pain through the Word of God; only here do we find legitimate breakthroughs.

My grace is sufficient for you. His Grace medicates our pain as nothing else can.

I will never leave you or forsake you. His Presence provides companionship, even when our pain takes us to places of aloneness we never dreamed of having to go.

Sorrowful yet rejoicing. His Perspective, not ours, makes it possible to authentically live life on two levels. Our sojourn becomes both/and, not either/or. 

Not My will, but Thine be done. Embracing Jesus' Model of submission to pain is the soothing prescription for genuine, supernatural peace.

5.What lesson have I learned from pain?

Life requires far more than an Aleve. Can I say, “Bring it on!” No, I don’t think so. But I can say,

"Jesus is so sweet and pain is an incredible teacher."

Living with eternal intentionality: What have you learned about pain from real life situations?

Betty Crocker Behind the Iron Curtain

What would you have done? If you were in my situation, what would you have done? Though painfully embarrassing, the time has come to lift this story out of my trunk of memories.

In the spring of 1980, God’s undercover ministry behind the Iron Curtain was gaining momentum, and our small team planned a women’s retreat. This covert event would be historic, the first ever of its kind.

Our lives of subterfuge mandated sifting every single minuscule detail through Communist realities. For instance, a home offered the only safe environment for this overnight event - secrecy was essential in keeping our subversive activities under the radar. Arrivals would be intricately orchestrated so that each person entered separately, thus avoiding attracting attention of any nosy neighbors.

Once inside the door, none of us would leave. Our meals would be prepared and eaten together within the confines of this one home. Duties would be equally divided among us.

Though I suffered miserably from morning sickness, I ducked my head into the wind of adversity, and assumed responsibility for my share in the workload. Sally, Gwen, and I signed up in advance to prepare breakfast.

Cold War food shortages were severe. Food rationing, empty stores, vacant shelves, and long lines made meal planning daunting. To guarantee a breakfast to remember, I volunteered to sacrifice one of my treasured boxes of Betty Crocker muffin mixes.

Unheard of in Polish stores, these Betty Crocker muffin mixes were hoarded in my basement for a birthday, a holiday, or in this case, a gathering of women. Certainly my friends would feel loved with my offering.

On the morning of duty, the three of us, Sally, Gwen and Debby, arose earlier than our sleeping friends, and tiptoed around bodies to make our way to the kitchen. Quietly and cheerfully, we busied ourselves making our breakfast feast. I could hardly wait to surprise the group with my Betty Crocker muffins. This contribution would be the highlight of the retreat food!After all, how long had it been since they enjoyed the taste of a warm BC muffin?

While Sally and Gwen busied themselves with ham and eggs, I lit the gas oven. After tying on my apron, I rubbed my hands together and reread the already familiar instructions on the back of the Betty Crocker box. Next, I pulled out the bowl, spoon, and oil for the muffins. Ready, set, go.

Then it happened…

 I opened the box and GASPED!

You guessed it.

There. were. WORMS. crawling. around. inside. the. box!

Horrified, embarrassed, disappointed, and frustrated, I considered my options. Under normal circumstances, shrug and toss. (Why, of course.) But these were not normal circumstances. This was our first historic women’s retreat. We were missionary women living covert lives behind the Iron Curtain, and Betty Crocker muffins were mandatory for this breakfast.

Desperately, I turned to my colleagues for reassurance and recalibration. Each gazed down into the cardboard crisis. Disgusting. Utterly disgusting.

I stared at Sally and Gwen. They stared back. No wiggle room (pun unintended). The looks on their faces spoke a unanimous verdict: take the box and toss the contents ASAP.

What? Are you kidding me? No way! Standing there in that Communist kitchen, we parted ways. Without their approval, I mixed, made and baked the Betty Crocker muffins. Oh, how delicious they smelled as the aroma wafted from the warm oven.

With a defiant flare, I single-handedly served the delicacies. Those gathered around the breakfast table obliviously slathered butter, jam and honey on warm Betty Crocker muffins. Each thanked me profusely for unselfishly, sacrificially sharing the culinary treasures, which had been stored in my basement “for such a time as this.”

And, what happened in the kitchen stayed in the kitchen - no one else ever knew of our war with worms. Sally and Gwen simply demurely declined when the Betty Crocker muffin basket made its way around to them. The three of us exchanged glances as I took one for myself, and choked it down - in the spirit of celebration of our first historic women’s retreat.

Deprivation distorts decisions.

Today, 37 years later, I am ashamed of myself. Yet given the circumstances of scarcity back then, Betty Crocker muffins with worms seemed better than no Betty Crocker muffins at all. And to think, I didn't even put the contents through a sifter.  

What would you have done if you were in my shoes? 

Are You Excited and Equipped to Return Home?

The key in the lock turned in my fingers, and I stumbled through my familiar door. Though bleary eyed and exhausted, I knew exactly what to do. My perfect game plan was already perfectly in place.

Think about it - you and I are bombarded with sources, telling us how to prepare for a journey. Tips for Travel are easy to come by. Websites abound! Comprehensive Travel Checklist, How to Prepare for a Trip: 6 Steps, 17 Easy Steps for Planning Your Next Trip, 10 Things to Do Before You Travel, to name just a few. Advice is just a click away for:

How to get a passport

How to pack a suitcase

How to get a visa

How to choose a place to stay

How to exchange currency

How to use public transportation

How to put a hold on your mail

How to prepare a home (don’t forget to turn down the hot water heater)

How to, how to, how to…the list goes on and on and on and on.

But,

How many sources tell us how to return from a trip?

For those of us who live a life of travel (by definition: we spend 50%-plus days away from our home address) the challenge of returning from a trip occupies a significant portion of our schedule and our psyche. Are we set to do the drill or do we leave the 'back nine' to chance?

7 Autopilot Suggestions for Successful Return

Life has taught me it is unwise to leave the procedure to chance. Here is my Autopilot List, a tool honed after decades of travel.  

1. Walk in the door, open the suitcase, and grab the dirty laundry. Start the washer with the first load. Knowing the first step makes a marvelous contribution to reentering life at home.

2. Next, unpack the remaining contents of the suitcase and put the suitcase away, out of sight. Now.

3. Check the mail; scan - only scan – items. This is not the time to solve problems delivered by the post. Rather, organize pieces in order of priority to be addressed tomorrow. Not now.

4. Text or talk with a family member, church member or friend, and schedule a coffee or visit as soon as possible. The significance of another human in the reentry process is incalculable. Why? Travel tends to pull up our emotional anchors; we find ourselves vulnerable, tossed like flotsam. Regardless of the success of the trip, a meaningful connection with a good relationship quickly reminds us who we are and where we belong.

5. Refrain from making a big decision until you have spent 24 hours at home.

6. Have a favorite book handy to read; this is both a pleasure and a protection.

7. Go to bed early. Travel fatigue is real and must be combated with the medicine of rest.

Whether your travel is routine or rare, with family or friend, for pleasure or profession:

A game plan for returning home is part of the preparation for departure. 

Walking back through the door can be a positive experience, provided you know what to do. Avoid trip let down, and leave home with confidence, knowing that you know how to return.

Above all, Jesus reminds us that He alone is the same yesterday, today and forever. (Hebrews 13:8) He is available with supernatural resources to gracefully help us chart the waters from where we have been to where we are.

So, Bon Voyage, Przyjemna Podróż, Gute Reise, Godspeed, Safe Travels. See you when you get back!

Living with eternal intentionality: What have you found to contribute to a positive return from traveling?