My physical pain levels have been high over the past few weeks. I’ve found myself – in a childlike manner – uttering: “pain, pain, go away”! Then I think of others, like a friend I had coffee with this week, dealing with a much bigger health mountain than mine. Or today. a colleague grieving the loss of a loved one. And as I look back over my week, my pain has been mixed with laughter, rich conversations, time with loved ones, purposeful meetings, riding my new bike and cheering home the Swans in the final minutes of their game last night.

Paradox is always before us. Life is joy and sorrow, delight and pain, success and failure, grace and suffering. And thankfully, as I have experienced again this week. God is right there amid all of it – when I cry out “pain, pain go away” and when life is so richly beautiful and joyful.

I’ve been reading a rich, raw and poignant prayer-poem from Kate Bowler and Jessica Richie again this week. It comes from the book The Lives We Actually Have – 100 Blessings for Imperfect Days. This book stays on my desk for regular reading and praying, because maybe like me you know plenty of imperfect days.

The prayer-poem begins:

“Blessed are you on this pain-filled day.
When getting out of bed deserves an award.
When you can’t remember what it feels like
not to be so aware of your own body.
When you arrange your weeks around limitations or side effects.”

Maybe today you are experiencing physical, emotional or spiritual pain. Dealing with deep trauma. Hanging in there – just. Maybe these words are for you this weekend.

“You count dear one.
And so does your pain.
It does not and did not disqualify you from belonging.”

Bowler and Richie describe the paradox we all know.

“For the truth of it is, life is painful,
and what makes it so,
is the terrible and the beautiful living side by side.
Our loves. Our losses.
Our limits and hopes.
Our successes and failures.
Some would try and sell us the fiction
that there’s an invincibility club,
and we really should join.
If we only we could qualify.”

And then – this life-transforming reminder – that I have held onto again this week as I live with pain and sit with others in even deeper pain places and spaces.

“But our God came to be cloaked
in our fragility
In our humanity
to know our pain from the inside out.
Oh, suffering one, you will never, ever be left behind.
You belong. You are loved.
And you have never been forgotten.
Come join us, in the company of the broken.”

When we embrace our brokenness, but also God’s restorative vision for people and planet, we open the door to live with paradox, to live purposefully amid pain and pleasure, loss and love, limits and hopes. We can be honest about our pain and limitations, but not dwell on our circumstances and fall into self-pity.

We can join with the wonderful Henri Nouwen in fully, deeply and rewardingly taking hold of the invitation to live as “wounded healers”. Wounded ourselves. Yes – we all know our wounds. But we are wonderfully invited to join Jesus as healers, comforters, advocates, alongsiders, intercessors, soup cookers, coffee shouters, email writers, appointment drivers, lawn mowers, hospital visitors, shalom seekers, a silent presence, a fellow pain pilgrim …. and so much more. We’re invited to “the company of the broken”!

“For the truth of it is, life is painful,
and what makes it so,
is the terrible and the beautiful living side by side.
But our God came to be cloaked
in our fragility
In our humanity
to know our pain from the inside out.”

I’m at the airport – heading to Singapore and Cambodia to meet with team members and partners. Pain has become a constant travelling companion of mine. I’m learning how to travel with this challenging companion. But purpose and joy are my friends as well. I’m inspired as I serve alongside compassionate, creative and courageous Baptist Mission Australian colleagues and partners across the globe. Together we’re seeking to play our small part in God’s grand shalom vision for our beautiful, broken world.

We are all invited to this adventure – in the pain, mess, beauty and hope – in all seasons of life.

,