Does Pain have a Purpose in My Grief?

Has your grief ever felt like this?

Has your grief ever felt like this?

“Ouch!” Is one of the first words we use as children to let others know we are uncomfortable. 

From our beginning, we are introduced to pain and learn to live with varying levels of it.  Some of us are taught that our pain makes others feel badly, so we learn to hide our pain, allowing it to fester in the soul like rotting tomatoes.  Others of us are taught by example to avoid pain at nearly all cost: find a pill, a liquid, a powder, a few leaves, inhale, snort, swallow; just take anything that will numb the painful feeling.

Have you ever wondered what value there is in pain?  For many of us, we might reply, “There is no value in pain!  All it does is make my life miserable.  When I hurt, I want it to stop, right now!”  I can’t argue, I want my pain to stop immediately too.  I must distinguish at this point that I am not talking about chronic pain.  So if you suffer from relentless agony of physical pain, please keep in mind these thoughts are addressing sudden or acute physical or emotional pain.

The Problem of Pain

So what is the problem with pain?  Pain interferes with our lives.  It distracts us from people or projects or plans. Depending on the severity of physical pain, we might require some type of numbing medicine to get us through surgery and the recovery process.  But pain is also speaking to us of something deeper. Something’s wrong.  Something needs attention.

The Benefit of Pain

When my husband tore his rotator cuff, he experienced pain.  That was a good thing.  Why?  Because it notified him of his injury.  He could seek the medical attention needed to remedy the situation. Without pain, in just a few months, he would have continued to use his arm until it would render itself useless.  His pain was a warning signal that something was wrong and needed to be attended to.  So this pain was beneficial.

Emotional Pain

But what about emotional pain, is there any benefit to it? When our soul aches to its core over a love lost, a pet that dies, a house that burns, or injustice to innocents.  . . . when we can barely face a new day because we feel so abandoned, alone, misunderstood, and isolated.  . . .  when we are the grieving parent, spouse, child, sibling, extended family or friend at the grave side . . . .What benefit does our emotional pain have?

We can endure much more than we think we can; all human experience testifies to that. All we need to do is learn not to be afraid of pain. Grit your teeth and let it hurt. Don’t deny it, don’t be overwhelmed by it. It will not last forever. One day, the pain will be gone and you will still be there.
— Harold Kushner When All You've Ever Wanted Isn't Enough

A Catalyst for Healing

Actually, if we will allow, our emotional pain is extremely useful.  It warns us of our vulnerability.  It could guide us to healthy remedies, soothing comfort, and important time-out to grieve and mourn.  Emotional pain, when given attention is the catalyst for movement toward healing.  Can you think of a situation when denying that pain exists or pretending we are not emotionally broken is useful?

I am fully aware that many of us respond to emotional pain similarly to our physical pain.  We want to end it as quickly as possible and we turn to substances, distractions, or pretense to numb the ache.  We are misguided to think that being numb is a better option.  

Healthy grieving informs us that leaning into the pain, accepting pain as part of the process, working out the emotional pain like one works out a muscle cramp is part of good grief work.  It leaves us with space for emotional wholeness. In reality, pain could be our biggest asset if we understood it as the catalyst for healing.

When something bad happens . . . I strive to be grateful; not for the pain itself, but for the opportunity to respond, to form good out of what looks bad.
— Philip Yancey, Where is God When It Hurts.(p 59, 60)

Love Outlasts the Suffering

As I sit by the side of our son’s grave, I feel the pain.  Tears help release some of it and it rolls down my check making little mud spots in the dirt.  I breathe in deeply.  I love our son.  Without him, my life has forever changed.  And I realize then, that the pain is evidence of love.  I know that my forever-mommy-love will outlast this current hurt.  Someday, there will be no more suffering, tears, anguish, sorrow and pain.  All that is left will be love and “Ouch” will vanish from our vocabulary! ©Karen Nicola August 2020

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