Assigned Suffering…

A fire alarm went off, and I am sitting outside on a curb at the Dallas Love Airport on my way to Orlando for work. We had to evacuate the building. Luckily, it is a beautifully pleasant sunny day. I had started this thought for you inside, but I might as well take advantage of this unique opportunity.

At church on Sunday, we said this congregational prayer together, and I felt the “ugh”. I felt the “I don’t really want to say this.” It said…

“I am no longer my own, but thine.

Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.

Put me to doing, put me to suffering.

Let me be employed by thee or laid aside for thee,

Exalted for thee or brought low for thee.

Let me be full, let me be empty.

Let me have all things, let me have nothing.

I freely and heartily yield all things to thy pleasure and disposal.

And now, O glorious and blessed God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,

Thou art mine, and I am thine.

So be it.”

I have been thinking about this prayer ever since. This prayer, along with a book by one of my coworkers, Gina Butz, titled “Making Peace With Change,” inspired this thought. In her book, she talks about assignments and how we are “assigned” suffering, hardship, pain, delt experiences, put in traumatic situations, that we would NEVER ever choose for ourselves.

And this prayer says. I understand in life this will happen, and “I will accept it.”

I will accept life as it is given. As it is assigned. As it is dealt.

I accept.

I am in a season of life I don’t want to accept. The pain down in my soul is kind of like a permeating ache that is just there; it doesn’t really go away, but you must adjust and try to continue on.

My “pain” is a very human experience that one too many of us will endure. The pain of once having a traditional family unit and now being a single mom. Once having companionship and now having none.

And this prayer made me think about so many other human experiences that we don’t WANT.

*A cancer diagnosis and treatment for a year.

*Kidney dialysis and veins that can’t take any more, but you must.

*The death of a spouse and now raising babies by yourself.

*The loss of a job and the struggle to find new work.

*The death of a baby and trying to make sense of this insanity.

*The loss of family connection due to values or divergent beliefs.

*Pervading health issues that you must just live with.

*The grief of living your golden years alone, spouseless.

*The death of a son due to drug abuse.

*The death of a daughter due to suicide.

The complexity of the human experience. The never-ending questions of human suffering and of the whys.

Why me, why her, why him, why now, why this?

More and more, I am learning how we have a choice. We accept the assignment. Or we reject it, and the longer we reject it, the longer we prolong our suffering. We feed the suffering, we fan the flame, and it can consume our whole life. Pain is gluttonous; it always wants more and more. To take and take.

What does that mean? It means we have to stop fighting.

We have to adjust quickly to the life given to us and carry on.

For example, we evacuated the airport, and now every flight is delayed. There are a few different responses: People who huffed and puffed and went on and on about how horrible this was, and then those who I overheard, saying things like, “At least it is not raining and snowing on us,” or “So glad we are not at DFW, could you imagine?” The people who accepted what was dealt to us and carried on severed the suffering. Those who could not adjust quickly prolonged their suffering.

It is sometimes hard to articulate the pain that permeates the soul, yet my dear, I understand. I am with you. I still walk with a limp and with scars due to having to walk out a life I would have never chosen.

I do my best to be grateful daily as I wake up and look at my beautiful home, which is a pure miracle. As I look at my amazing boys, who make me so proud. As I am so blessed with all my needs met. As I am surrounded by deep love from a community of friends and a beautiful house of worship to serve in. As I wake to a life of purpose. With my face toward the sun, I want to be able to say, “Thou art mine, and I am thine. So be it.”

What else can be done, what else can be said? If this is my assignment, my lot, the hand dealt to me, then all I can do is play. Play with the “cards” given to me. So let’s do it, my dear, let’s play! Don’t fold, don’t give up, don’t throw them away, go all in. This is it, our one life, our one opportunity to “play.” Pull up a chair, this is the table of life, and we are here. So Let it Be.

From My Heart to Yours,