Seeking Solace In The Pain
Job tells the story of a man whose entire life was taken from him in a single day: his property and livestock stolen or destroyed, his servants and children killed.
Seven sons.
Five daughters.
7,000 sheep.
3,000 camels.
500 yoke of oxen.
500 donkeys.
“a large number of servants.”
“This man was blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil” (Job 1:1 NIV) yet he was struck with the starkest of pains. Natural disaster and human evil together devastate Job’s life. Like us, Job cries out to God in despair. Job chapters 3 and 6 show the depths of that despair: he wishes that he had never been born, that God would grant him the release of death. He cannot eat, he cannot rest, he is completely undone.
If only my anguish could be weighed
and all my misery be placed on the scales!
It would surely outweigh the sand of the seas
Job 6:2-3a
As a parent of an autistic child, Job’s words feel familiar, I have felt the same sting. Of course, he suffered far more than I, his calamity is far greater than mine, but in his anguish I dare to call him brother.
The problem with the book of Job is that it doesn’t do the one thing that you want it to do. It doesn’t tell us why pain and suffering exist. We all ask why. We all want to know the reason for our suffering, that it somehow matters. We want it justified. And as a rule, we don’t get an answer to this question. The book of Job in particular and the Bible as a whole do not set out to give systematic reasons for evil and suffering. There are pointers to be sure, but more so there is an assumption that suffering is a part of the world we live in. The bigger questions then, are how does God relate to us in this suffering, and what is He doing about it. The question for us is how should we respond?
All too often we buy into the modern, western notions that everything should work out for the best in every situation and if it doesn’t then there has got to be an answer. We have to find some explanation, something or someone to blame.
Barring that, we may deny the reality of the suffering altogether because it seems to somehow contradict what we believe about God and the nature of his interaction with the world. Are we afraid of what will happen if the truth gets out? Are we afraid of what will happen to us, to our belief, our world if we don’t have nice neat answers? Sometimes I think so.
Over the coming months, I want to look at how we, as parents of children with special needs, tend to respond to the reality that we face on a daily basis. We do not suffer in the way that our children do. We do not experience the often overwhelming and pervasive issues of being misunderstood, of not being able to cope with things that others take for granted, of not being able to communicate or see the world in the ways that “everyone else” does. But we do far more than simply see these things happen to our children. We “suffer with” in a very real sense. The heartache is real, the concern is real. The pain is real.
I have found that there are basically four responses we parents of special needs kids have when confronted with the often stark, in your face reality of the suffering of our children and yes, our own suffering. Perhaps one, perhaps all of them reflect your experience:
Whose fault is this?
Why would God allow this to happen/why would God do this?
It is all the devil’s fault.
Fault? There is no fault, how dare you suggest that?
All four responses are entirely understandable, but none of them, I find, truly address the reality that we, and our children, face. I believe there is a better response. Harder, but better. It is realizing that God is a God who suffers with us.
So if any of these four responses feel familiar (or if all of them do) I invite you to take a journey with me to explore how we might better respond to the suffering we face.
Written by Kevin O’Brien
