No one can really understand when we hurt.
They have to take our word for it.
(Of course the broken bone is a hint).
There is no universal arbitrary measure of pain.
This is because we are uniquely individual.
Our nervous systems have certain variabilities as do our past experiences with life and pain management.
Of course we believe others should understand completely and it’s easy for us to not understand why they can’t.
Physical pain not only hurts, it can stimulate an emotional response at the same time.
The longer pain lasts the more frustrating and difficult it is to manage life’s required routines.
Pain affects relationships and can require us to work on being calm and patient when our bodies are screaming at us — and yet, no other human will completely understand at the time.
We all know there are levels of pain.
Delivering a baby (not as the doctor, but as the mother) is universally agreed to being one of the worst.
So is the kidney stone.
Teeth can be culprits as well.
But there are other forms of pain as disruptive to life and many invisible to another’s eyes.
For example, the loss of someone dear can result in a crushing pain that is able to collapse a large adult to the floor and mold him into the fetal position instantly.
They may wind up rocking and moaning for hours.
But as odd as it sounds, pain has a good side.
It slows the overly busy and distracted person, forcing them to stop and talk to others, and, if there is a connection, to God.
This can teach us the difference between the two - people and God.
God is able to comfort in quiet internal ways, assuming, of course as I have said, we have a connection.
People, on the other hand and as already been stated, can be wonderfully supportive in many ways, but still not completely understanding the pain of others.
This, I believe is not only normal, but as it should be.
Pain isolates to get our attention and then when it achieves this it begins the process of softening and strengthening us in ways only pain seems able to do.
Hear my cry, O God, listen to my prayer; from the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint.
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I,