A blog about the daily struggle of living with chronic pain written by a victim of a chronic illness. Topics include anxiety, suffering, anger, grief, and depression and are addressed from a Christian worldview.
"And as they [Jesus and His disciples] went out of Jericho, a GREAT CROWD followed Him. And behold, there were two BLIND MEN sitting by the roadside, and when they heard that JESUS was passing by, they cried out, "Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!"
The crowd REBUKED them, telling them to be silent, BUT they cried out all the more, "Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!"
And stopping, Jesus called them and said, “WHAT do you WANT me to do for you?” They said to Him, "Lord, let our eyes be opened." And Jesus IN PITY touched their eyes, and immediately they recovered their sight and FOLLOWED Him." (Matthew 20:29-34)
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The words two easily-overlooked blind beggars called out to Jesus as He passed them by on His way to Jerusalem, begging Him for help despite being told to keep quiet, have become one of our most beloved prayers: "Kyrie Eleison" (Greek for "Lord, Have Mercy," accompanied by a Latin pronunciation). Jesus paused along His was to heal them, but little did those lepers and beggars know that the LORD was already having mercy on them before they even saw Him. He was, after all, on His was to Calvary for them. For us.
I don't know about you, but sometimes 90 seconds is all I have, at least in a row. And sometimes, that's all it takes for our wandering perspectives and priorities to return to their rightful places. For those times, here is a brief rendition of the Kyrie. You'll find this same chant in our liturgy today, 2000 years after it was first spoken to our Lord. It's only appropriate that we cry out these same words when 90 seconds seems like too much to spare, lest He pass us by and we fail to notice His mercy whether He stops to heal us or not. And if someone tells you to be silent, just cry out all the more.
Suggested verse to repeat if it's a difficult day is the Kyrie.
PRC buddies, remember to breathe!
"Lord, have mercy. -------> 5 count inhale
Christ, have mercy." -------> 5 count exhale For more on peace and meditation, click here.
I can't remember ever falling asleep within 15 minutes of laying down, even before I was sick, but I can always hope. So, here's "Gaude, Virgo Mater Christi," ("Rejoice, Virgin Mother of Christ") composed by Hugo Aston ca. 1530. No pictures to look at, no Bible verses to read. Just 15 minutes of music and a blank screen. Al though it doesn't exactly lull me to sleep (nothing does), it does give me something else to focus on besides a screen and my thoughts long enough for me to feel relaxed, so I thought perhaps it might help you.
Suggested verse to repeat if it's a difficult day (or night) is from Psalm 4:8a
PRC buddies, remember to breathe!
"In peace -------> 5 count inhale
I will lie down and rest," -------> 5 count exhale
I won't translate the whole thing for you because it's so long, however, we should always know what we're listening to--especially if it looks like we might be praising someone other than Christ. Here's a part of the text:
Gaude
quia tui nati -- Rejoice because of the Son quem
dolebas morte pati -- at whose suffering death thou wast grieved fulget
resurrectio -- the Resurrection now blazeth forth Gaude
Christo ascendente -- Rejoice at Christ’s ascension et
in celum te vidente-- even to heaven, in thy sight motu
fertur proprio -- He is borne by His own motion Ave
plena gratia -- Hail, full of grace Propter
plagas Jesu Christi -- for the sake of Jesus Christ’s wounds quas
cruentas flens vidisti -- which thou didst weep to see bleeding pro
nostra miseria-- for our wretchedness
Of all the things that come with chronic pain—be it the pain itself, the inability to work, the seclusion—sleeplessness to me is the worst. All those other things seem so much worse at 3AM when I'm wide awake and the rest of the world isn't. Insomnia is so cruel. I lie down after a day filled with pain, and I think, now finally some peace... and it doesn't come. What does come is more pain. Worse pain. Lonely pain. And thoughts. Oh, the wretched, wretched thoughts. This is the time that my thoughts run away with me. They consume me past the point of distraction and into the point of near agony: How will I pay off that student loan that was such a waste now that I can't work? Will I ever give my husband a child? Will my Dad get sicker? Will my brother be all right? Do my friends even remember me? What friends? What if I get worse? What if I can't sleep tomorrow? blah blah blah blah.... Yeah, I know worrying and self-centered rumination doesn't actually do any good, but I can't turn it off, so kindly quit telling me to do the impossible and focus on something constructive: How do I find peace in these, literally the darkest of moments?? I don't. It's given to me.
"Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." (John 14:27)
Peace, He leaves with us. And peace leaves us, too. But His peace—the peace He GIVES to us—remains even when our worldly peace cowers in the face of chaos and unrest. The peace He earned for us, the peace that was bought with such a heavy price, will not falter. Stop looking for peace. You'll never ever find it. Peace, like sleep, isn't something to be "caught." It's a gift, so start receiving it. You'll never ever lose it.
In this particular frame of stained glass, Jesus too seems lost in His own sad thoughts while the world goes on around Him. But still, He was at peace. Peace in spite of the knowledge that He must suffer horribly and die like a criminal at the hands of those He loves more than His own life... because He knew what He was doing was right. Peace in spite of the knowledge that I must always hurt... true peace because I know what He did. I worry about a lot of things at 3AM, it's true, but I don't worry about my salvation. And what else matters, in big sleepless scheme of things? Even if all my worst "what ifs" come true at once, I am at peace. Here's Stile Antico performing the medieval chant by William Byrd, "Miserere Mihi, Domine; Miserere Nostri, Domine," "Have Mercy on Me, O LORD; Have Mercy on Us."
Suggested verse to repeat if it's a sleepless night:
Attached here is the most beautiful rendition of the Nunc Dimittis (Latin for "Now Let") that I've heard to date, composed by William Byrd. It's also called Simeon's Song, as it was Simeon who sung it when he met and worshiped the baby Jesus in the temple (Luke 2:22-38). Simeon was also the man who warned Mary that a "sword shall pierce through [her] own soul as well." You may recognize the translation provided below. In its simpler form, the Nunc Dimittis is part of our liturgy after we've received the Lord's Supper, and it's also part of the final prayers of the day known as Compline. This prayer can certainly lull even a troubled soul to sleep, or at least bring about a sense of peace and calm. Close your eyes and enjoy.
ENGLISH Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace according to Thy Word. For mine eyes have seen Thy salvation, which Thou has prepared before the face of all people. A light to lighten the gentiles, and the glory of Your people, Israel.
LATIN Nunc dimittis servum tuum, Domine, secundum verbum tuun in pace Quia viderunt oculi mei salutare tuum. Quod parasti ante faciem onmium populorum Lumen ad revalationem gentium, et gloriam plebis tuae Israel.
"For those who LIVE according to the FLESH set their minds of the things of the flesh, but those who LIVE according to the SPIRIT set their minds on the things of the Spirit. For to set the mind on the FLESH IS DEATH, BUT to set the mind on the SPIRIT IS LIFE and Peace." (Romans 8:5-6)
"Mindfulness" is the Buddhist term for one of seven factors of their enlightenment. It is inherently offensive to ask a Christian to try and achieve it. It's the same thing as asking a Muslim individual to contemplate his baptism into Christ. I ask everyone to please be mindful of that.
And so, when such a concept is presented within a secular program or activity, we can either respectfully abstain from it altogether, or we can break it down to its most simplistic form and apply a Christian world view. I chose to do the latter, and here's what I found. (My sincere apologies to anyone who will find my oversimplification of this Buddhist ideal offensive. I mean no disrespect).
Very simply put, mindfulness is a spiritual and psychological awareness that enables one to be totally present in the moment. "It is not to let what one knows slip away from one's mind," to not be distracted from the moment (Geunther, Mind in Buddhist Psychology). The most easily understood definition I came across is from a Zen master named Muho Neolke in "Antaiji: Adult Practice":
If you are mindful, you are already creating a separation ("I – am – mindful – of - ..."). Don't be mindful, please! When you walk, just walk. Let the walk walk. Let the talk talk. Let the eating eat, the sitting sit, the work work. Let the sleep sleep (Part 18).
Let the spasms spasm? Let the cramps cramp? No, that can't be right. Moments for me are fairly painful, so I spend most of my time trying to escape them, trying NOT to be in them. The pain steals the moments from me, it sets my mind on the flesh, and so I think -- and correct me if I'm mistaken -- the idea is to be mindful despite the pain, not to be mindful of the pain. (We can discuss the merits of being mindful of unpleasant things some other time).
That's how we're supposed to treat all our chronic stressors. Financial trouble generally isn't resolved as soon as we put away our checkbooks, but the key is to only think about the finances while the checkbook is out. It's the same with learning to live with the death of a loved one. The fact that our loved one is gone is always present, just like our chronic pain, but we can't dwell on it 24/7 without going mad.
If the present reality, the present moment, is awful―and we all know it can be―then what moment are we supposed to be present in? What are we supposed to be mindful of, exactly? The clock ticking? The birds chirping? The feel of the grass under my feet? Yeah, that's not really doing it for me. I don't pretend to understand that part of the Buddhist way, but thankfully St. Paul has his own answer to that question.
Years ago, a beloved speech professor of mine (thank you, Charles) introduced me to a concept that's proved invaluable over these last few painful years: the distinction between the really real and the actual. The actual, being reality, is temporary and temporal. It exists only within a single moment of time. The really real, also being reality, transcends the temporal. The really real is where our loved ones who died before us live, it's also where the Crucifixion and Resurrection took place (as well as in the actual). The fact that Christ died and rose for our sins and we are redeemed is REALLY REAL; the fact that we are sick and hurting is ACTUAL.
So, the "mindfulness" St. Paul calls for is for us to live in the reality of our salvation while living with the actuality of our sinfulness. Sounds great. I want to be in that moment. I want to be mindful of the salvation Jesus won for me on the cross despite all the things that try to imprison my mind in the actual. I want to be aware of the really real to the point that I forget everything else: the ultimate enlightenment.
Well, I'm afraid that's not going to happen until everything else but the really real ceases to exist, so for now all I can do is try. Letting the walk walk―letting the salvation save?―is so hard to do when I am constantly in pain. That blasted thorn in my flesh constantly anchors me in the actual, in the temporal, in the temporary sinful imperfections of my body and my life. Cripes, even as I write this I'm interrupted every 5 minutes with the reality of my disease.
That's human. That's actual. And that's okay, because our salvation doesn't depend on what level of enlightenment we are able to attain for ourselves. The ultimate enlightenment isn't something that I can achieve for myself at all: it's something Jesus achieved for me, something that will be actualized on the Last Day.
Nevertheless, do not be dragged into the belief that the only peace Christians can hope for is in death. We can be mindful of the really real, of our salvation in Christ, despite our anchors. The really real IS HERE NOW. You can touch it in Word and Sacrament: in church, in prayer, in our baptism. Let the flesh go and strive to be mindful of your salvation in Christ every moment, and thank God that true “inner peace” has nothing to do with inner anything, but rather lies in an outer reality that is greater than whatever anchors us to the actual.
Here's an example of the music I use for meditation or relaxation or prayer. I translated it from Latin because we should always be aware of what we're listening to, as well as what we're meditating on. It's quite soothing if you enjoy medieval chanting (this song is well over 800 years old).
Suggest verse to repeat when in prayerful meditation is from Psalm 23:1a
Sleeplessness and chronic pain go hand-in-hand in a vicious sort of cycle. Three hours of fitful sleep in a row is often considered a good night for me, and so I'm well versed in the 2am infomercial scene. Nothing is quite so lonely and empty as the middle of the night, when all you can think about is how you can't even catch a few moment's peace while the rest of the world is blissfully oblivious to your torment.
Distractions... I don't just while away my sleepless hours watching romantic comedies from the early 90s (for those of you who got the title reference). It's also a good time for Bible surfing. I stumbled onto the following Psalm a while ago during a particularly sad and lonely night in the hospital, thank God, and although it didn't bring me sleep, it did bring me peace.
Here's Psalm 40 in part. It's a long one. David, the author of over 70 of the 150 Psalms in the Old Testament, evidently had his share of sleepless nights, too.
I waited patiently for the LORD; He inclined to me and heard my cry.
He drew my up from the pit of destruction, our of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.
He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD.
As for You, O LORD, You will not restrain Your mercy from me;
Your steadfast love and Your faithfulness will ever preserve me!
For evils have encompassed me beyond number;
my iniquities have overtaken me, and I cannot see;
they are more than the hairs of my head; my heart fails me.
Be pleased, O LORD, to deliver me! O LORD, make haste to help me!
Let those be put to shame and disappointed altogether who seek to snatch away my life;
let those be turned back and brought to dishonor who delight in my hurt!
As for me, I am poor and needy, but the LORD takes thought for me.
You are my help and my deliverer; Do not delay, O my God!
