Eucatastrophe

It's safe to say that in my 37 years on this earth, these past few weeks have been the most painful moments I've experienced. I'm certain that I will have greater pain in my life than this--I still haven't lost anyone from my immediate family, nor any of my closest friends. But for now, this is the apex, or perhaps more accurately the nadir, and it's been difficult. I suppose some could try to dismiss the intensity of the pain I feel since it's "just a break-up," but it's so much more than that for me, since it's a death of a vision and hope I had that I had found my soul mate after at least 20 years of yearning to find her. Being rejected by a woman who tells you that she doesn't believe she'll find anyone else who will love her more than you compounds the pain even more, accompanied as it is by the unavoidable and relentless, yet unanswerable, "why?" Through this intense pain however, I feel that I am learning lessons about life, and I have seen the hand of God working in my life.

Last Sunday, as I was driving home from my encounter with Meg, I was distraught and in bad shape. As I drove, at one point I said aloud, "man...I'm a real wreck right now." A minute later my brother called, which is certainly no coincidence. In my conversation with my brother, the magnitude of what was going on in my life hit me, along with deep wounds related to dating that stem as far back as my teen age years--all of this came flooding to the surface and I completely lost it. Weeping and wailing like I've never done before, nor knew possible. At that moment, while I was about to hang up with my brother because I was in such bad straits, another phone call came in, which I obviously couldn't answer. On the arc of my life, that moment, the moment when that second call came is without a doubt the most intense moment of pain I have ever felt. I was at rock bottom, and I felt gut wrenching, near puke inducing pain.

I came home, and went straight to bed, even though it was only around 9:30. I slept for about an hour and a half, and awoke at 11:00 or so. I decided to call back on the call that came in which I couldn't answer earlier that night. My friend Bob answered the phone, and I sensed a strain in his usually lighthearted voice. It didn't take long for me to understand why. His wife was going in the next day for an emergency hysterectomy. He wanted to know if I could sit with him while she was in surgery. He explained that he did not handle such things well, and he felt that my presence there would be a calming influence on him and that it would help the time go by. As I sat there, very much still deep in the pain of losing Meg, it was clear what I needed to do, and that God was showing me what we must do with our pain and suffering, and how it helps us enter into the suffering of others. There were connections between our pain, his and mine. That night, I lost the person who I had hoped more than anything would become my soul mate. His pain was linked to a fear that he would lose his soul mate of over 40 years. The timing of his call to me, exactly coinciding with the darkest moment of my life was no coincidence to me either. It was as if God was saying, "I know your pain--live in it, feel it, embrace it fully, and minister to your fellow man through it." It was a powerful moment for me, and perhaps the only way I could ever see this lesson so clearly revealed to me.

I did sit with him the next day, and thankfully his wife is going to be fine. It was good for both of us to be together and he was very grateful. I was still quite raw, but it seemed the only thing to do. Sitting with him, while he was suffering and I was suffering helped me tolerate the sorrow I was feeling myself. I definitely subscribe to the Catholic view of redemptive suffering, suffering willingly embraced and offered up as a sacrifice on behalf of someone else. It's an intriguing proposition that Paul lays out in the following passage: "I find joy in the sufferings I endure for you. In my own flesh I fill up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for the sake of His Body, the Church" (Col. 1:24). I believe that Christ invites us to participate in the redemption of the world through our suffering, and in some small way I saw this sitting with my friend Bob.

As I move forward, the ache in my heart ebbs and flows. I still feel very raw, and I'm still very confused and hurt and there is little joy to be found of late. Clearly through the grace of God, I made a decision that every time I feel a stab of pain, or grieve the loss of a future I had hoped for with all my heart, that I would embrace that pain and sorrow, and offer it up on behalf of Megan. I can't necessarily share Paul's noble words and say that I find joy in the pain, but when I consciously offer that pain up for Meg, I find myself saying, "Bring it on!" I willingly endure it, and find that indeed I can embrace it, and in so doing, I find it is much more tolerable for me, since now it has a purpose. Anytime I think of her, I pray for her, that she would be wooed by the savior of the world, that the Hound of Heaven would doggedly pursue her, and that she would be filled with the love of Christ. I pray for healing for her, and that she would have a life filled with joy. In my more noble moments, I strive to pray that the man she ends up with will cherish and treasure her as much as I had hoped to do. It seems at those moments, I always tend to whisper a desperate prayer that that man be me.

This morning, I awoke with a profound sense of loss and loneliness, coupled with a palpable longing for companionship. I realize this is the season that I am living in right now, and I'm sure I'll feel this again tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. I feel as if I've begun a hard journey, climbing into the unknown, since I don't know where the road will take me, or how far I need to journey. I feel like Sam and Frodo traveling in a desolate and barren land. But this is our lot in life often, is it not? I feel that for the first time in my life, I truly know what my cross is, and I will take it up each day and bear it on behalf of Megan. I think that's the only way that I will find my way out of this morass, and the only way I can make sense of the pain I feel, on a nearly constant basis. But oh, dear God! I pray that you heed the deepest desire of my heart, that you would call Megan to yourself. Please may it be so! I pray that you would answer the cry of my heart, and answer it speedily and quickly! Draw her to you, dear God, and heal the wounds of her heart, just as I ask you to do the same for me.