Letting Pain Serve Its Purpose

When I went through childbirth classes, our instructor admonished us not to tense up during contractions. She encouraged us to relax instead so they could do what they were intended to do. Tensing up and fighting the pain only prevents the contractions from accomplishing their purpose. The less effective they are, the more of them it takes to get the job done.

This all sounded fine when I sat in class two months before my first baby was born. Relax during contractions—check, I thought as I went through my mental list. It was a much different story on June 2 when they actually hit. Nothing about contractions is relaxing. I fought them right up to the minute the epidural took effect! Ahhh, now that was relief!

When I was back in the delivery room twenty months later, however, I labored without an epidural, and I did not wish to endure any more contractions than were necessary. I remembered the advice of my instructor: “The more relaxed you are, the more effective the contractions are. The more effective they are, the fewer it takes to get the job done.” The contractions were painful, but they were purposeful too. They helped me bring my beautiful children into this world.

I generally try to avoid pain in any form—physical, emotional, spiritual. It’s not pleasant. It stands in direct opposition to the American idea that happiness is our ultimate goal. And, well–it hurts. Why shouldn’t it be avoided at all costs? Unfortunately, we cannot realistically expect to live a pain-free life. Just like every one of us will cut and scrape our physical bodies, we’ll all experience emotional pain. We may not be able to control our pain, but we can control how we handle it.

In 2 Corinthians 12:10 (NIV), Paul declares, “I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.” He delights in them? How is that possible? Why would he delight in the very situations most of us try to avoid?

He explains why in the succeeding verses. Paul hadn’t always been so willing to accept the pain. Like a laboring woman tensing through contractions, he had fought against it. Paul was afflicted with a “thorn in the flesh,” a mysterious ailment or trial he doesn’t identify but which obviously plagued him. He pleaded with God to take it away, but God answered, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (12:9). Paul realized that the pain he experienced served a purpose—it allowed God’s power to be seen in his life and helped him to rely on God’s strength instead of his own. This is why he concludes, “For when I am weak, then I am strong” (12:10).

God doesn’t allow pain in our lives to see us hurt. He wants to use that pain to draw us to him and shine his light to others.

A few years ago I found myself in a seemingly endless cycle of pain. Every time I got through one hardship, another came knocking at my door. I was exhausted. I finally said, “Lord, I know I’ve been growing closer and closer to you this year, and that’s been exciting. But the more I seek you, the more you test me and stretch me. I’m tired. I don’t want to grow anymore. I still love you, but I think I’m going to stop trying to seek you for a while.”

As you can probably imagine, pulling away from God was not the answer. My hardships didn’t magically disappear. But I was fighting against the hurt, tensing up. To make matters worse, I was fighting them alone, apart from the One who could guide me through like a masterful labor coach. One night I remembered what the instructor from my childbirth class said: “The more relaxed you are, the more effective the contractions are. The more effective they are, the fewer it takes to get the job done.”

God is working on me when I experience pain. He has a purpose for it. But the more I fight it, the more I try to control it myself, the longer it’s going to take to get the job done.

Maybe you’re reading this post with a tightness in your chest, a headache from the tension, a weariness in your soul. May I encourage you to stop fighting? Take a deep breath. Let your shoulders fall. Even if you’re not quite ready to delight in your hardships, you can take the first step. Recognize that your pain is serving a purpose. Look for opportunities for God’s power to be made perfect in your weakness.

For when we are weak, then we are strong.

Katy Epling is a writer, speaker, and “masterpiece in progress” (Ephesians 2:10) from Akron, Ohio. She and her husband Jon have three beautiful children who provide her with multitudes of material—both dramatic and comedic. Learn more about her heart and ministry at katyepling.com.

Photograph © AJ Holyoake, used with permission