by Joanie Butman
“No pain, no gain” elicits horrible memories of Jane Fonda in leg warmers urging viewers to “go for the burn!” The leg warmer fashion trend always baffled me. I had enough padding on my legs without adding a thick layer of wool over them, highlighting exactly what I was attempting to lose. Plus, my legs were plenty warm. Seriously, no one was exercising outside! By the end of one of Jane’s classes, I was fantasizing about strangling her with one!
Regardless, as annoying as her cheery “go for the burns” were, there’s no denying the wisdom in that maxim. Whether it be your mind, body or spirit, real, lasting change alwaysinvolves pain. “No pain, no gain” isn't just a catchy slogan. It actually dates back to a 1650 poem by Robert Herrick, and in 1734 Benjamin Franklin stated, “There are no gains, without pains.” That motto is undeniably one of life’s enduring truths passed down from generation to generation. No one enjoys suffering, but trying to avoid pain is a sure path to stagnation in every aspect of life.
It’s counterintuitive because as humans, our default is to evade pain – which in and of itself is probably the cause of many of our issues. Avoidance creates its own suffering and the only way out is through. The children’s book, Going on a Bear Hunt, holds a profound message as does most children’s literature:
We’re goin’ on a bear hunt,
We’re going to catch a big one,
Oh look! It’s (fill in whatever bear you’re facing)!
Can’t go over it,
Can’t go under it,
Can’t go around it,
Got to go through it!
Whether it’s grief, loss of all kinds, physical/mental health challenges, or a faith crisis, the same formula applies. You have to do the one thing that is going to hurt you the most for healing to begin, and it’s never a quick fix. It’s a process. Elizabeth Kubler Ross’s stages of grief can be applied to more than the death of a loved one. There is the demise of a dream, a career, a marriage, your health, etc.
Post-surgery, I approached the Peloton the way one might anticipate a root canal or walking barefoot over a bed of hot coals. My ride was clumsy, slow and painful – as was my gait for the next few days. Yet, I knew the pain was an integral part of the recovery. If I shied away from it, the healing would take that much longer. Spiritually, I am even more reticent to face my failings and get back on the bike so to speak.
Spiritual avoidance has been a familiar tactic since Adam and Eve tried to hide from God in the Garden of Eden. Instead of running to God with my sin, my tendency is to run away from Him, playing my own version of Divine hide and seek. Why do I do that you might wonder? Pride perhaps, or simply the knowledge that once I confess it, I’ll have to surrender it. Sadly, humans tend to cling to their sins – at least this one does.
Whether God causes or allows pain to enter our lives, there's no doubt He uses it and then redeems it. My most recent health ‘episode’ was a Divine reset as Jesus did His own kind of surgery. Because I’m too stubborn to release what’s hurting me, He used my physical weakness (not for the first time) as an opportunity to reveal malignancies in my soul. While ‘all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again’, Jesus did a fine job creating something even more beautiful, not despite the brokenness but because of it. It’s similar to kintsugi, the Japanese art of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold — built on the idea that in embracing flaws and imperfections, you can create an even stronger, more beautiful piece of art. Christ is the potter, I am the clay. Sloane Kettering is my kiln.
So, if life is starting to heat up and your spiritual muscle is beginning to burn, take comfort in the fact that God will get you through it. You are not alone. You are never alone. “Be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For I AM with you wherever you go” ( Joshua 1:9).
