No Pain, No Gain

I just finished the 10k run in 1:09:08 and a wheelchair. I didn't stop running, I sang most of the way round, and all the time my ankle got worse and worse and worse. But until I crossed the finish line I was upright and smiling.

Soon after I was curled up on the floor cry my eyes out at the physical and emotional climax. It has been one hell of a week and, this done, all I have to look forward to is my French exam tomorrow morning...

You know what though, it's OK to cry.

The point of 'love running' is three-fold but always centred around love. Personal loving in an emotional/physical/spiritual way; community loving as we do it corporately, supporting each other and enjoy fun events together too; loving the world as we raise money for orphans (link), prostitutes (link) and the bereaved (link). When I was training the personal stuff was so true. In the release of the run I very often found myself thinking things through, realising stuff about me and/or God, finding more personal freedom. Physically too I am getting my fitness and figure back and that is quite welcome! In the pain of the training there was so much love and healing going on.

Yeah. There is healing in the pain... and that has been the main truth of this week for me and those around me. It feels like, through all the turmoil, wounds are being reopened and this time they are being closed neatly. It is like a broken bone that fused badly so the doctor has to re-break it. Then reset it. Hearts are being rebroken in my city... and then they will be made whole... and we need our hearts to be able to love.

I go to speech therapy because I've got nodules on my voice box. Me and my therapist tend to spend the whole time laughing and laughing and the best thing about it is - as she told me to my delight a few weeks ago - the way the larynx tilts in laughter releases the bad tension and brings healing. Healing in joy. This week was far more somber but you know what? I have never sung better. The larynx tilts the same way when you cry, don'tcha know, and I'd been doing that all morning. Pretty neat since I'd decided the day before that I want to sing and make music for people to dance (link) to.

I, we, are going to get better and when we have recovered there will be much joy and music and dancing. But right now the healing is still taking place. Some of us may be spiritual orphans that don't really feel cherished or loved by others, or perhaps emotional prostitutes that have no love for themselves. Still more of us are bereaved. Loss of a loved one is hard, even more so when there is no closure (link). We need to be mended.

But there is utter hope in what will come and I really believe that hurting now can be a part of the brighter future I was talking about, back before all this stuff hit the fan. In über Christian language, and please keep an open mind, this is what I mean:

"Let there be tears for what you have done. Let there be sorrow and deep grief. Let there be sadness instead of laughter, and gloom instead of joy. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up in honour." James 4:9-10

Now I don't think we suffer because we have "sinned". I think the world suffers because people have treated each other like crap. That is undeniable if you look at the case of a hit-and-run child killer. It is this corporate attitude against life that affects the innocent bystander. God does not dish out bad things, people do. But yet, in the humbling that comes when we are lying on the ground with snot running down our faces, there the hope lies:

"Then if my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sins and restore their land." 2 Chronicles 7:14

Again. I don't at all think we who suffer now are the specifically "wicked" ones, though no-one can deny imperfection and lack of love to fellow man. I think that everywhere people are living their lives as selfish individuals that don't understand what community is about. When this happens love is lost. When this happens in the extreme life is snatched away. Snatched from happy families, addicted sex-workers and whole nations.

But the reason there is hope is that I believe God will come and heal this land: as people are sorry for their apathetic (or worse) attitude, try to put it right and then love each other as much as they do themselves. Like the 300 of us that took to the streets of Bristol today and have TOGETHER raised £55,000 and counting. I myself only raised £555 (and counting) of that. It's just better together, when we stop being inward and realise that people are supposed to be parts of a bigger organism. If you don't believe me then look at the maths that says we all do better when we are altruistic. (I'll tell you about that another time...).

And this healing, as the voice analogy clearly proves, is in the tears. Cathartic crying that washes away the dirt. I would bring up the suffering of Jesus and the freedom and cleansing that brings but I don't want my ideas to seem exclusive, as I think this is objectively true about the world with or without Christianity (I just happen to also think we need the God bit to put theory into practice).

I bought a new pair of shoes on Tuesday that gave me blisters when I first wore them. That hurt a lot but these shoes are amazingly beautiful, and I totally need new brown ones, and they say "sole reviver" on the bottom.

I reckon that once they are broken in I will be able to wear them anywhere - my soles revived, injected with life, loving freely. The same will be true for my soul... and these shoes are the kind I can dance in!

Yet I cannot dance, or even step, again today. But that's OK. I did 10k and then when I'd given all I could I sat down and took the weight off. I don't have to step out again until I am able... or a worthy enough cause motivates me. In the recovery time someone else pushed the wheelchair; when I had to hobble along I was supported by dear friends on both sides all the way to a taxi; then, because at the last minute I was prompted/remembered to grab a tenner and stick it in my bra "in case I want to catch a taxi to the finish line!", I was able to get home and, though physically alone, I felt that God was with me and providing my transport. I may not have been moving under my own volition but I was moving forward and that is yet further support for living dependent, overlapping lives. Being strong for each other, loving each other, adding value to life for each other. Not only does brokenness come from an individualistic attitude but wholeness of life doesn't seem possible without community.

My friend's blog Good Grief (link) that I talked about the other day starts on the premise that the more we love the more we suffer. I think I would also suggest that, conversely, the more we suffer the more we love. Again, I try not to dwell on the Jesus example but I do think that somehow, just as grief cuts us open to allow healing in, suffering for others in the name of love allows it in to them too... and the ultimate suffering of Christ for humanity would imply ultimate freedom for us all. In a finite, but still pretty cool way, £55,000 will save many many lives and help bring wholeness to yet more... and that's worth a lot more than a sore foot.

I end on a poem. OK, it's in the bible but this is after all my natural language and it is consistent with the analogies:

⁵ What joy for those whose strength comes from the Lord,
who have set their minds on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.
⁶ When they walk through the Valley of Weeping,
it will become a place of refreshing springs.
The autumn rains will clothe it with blessings.
⁷ They will continue to grow stronger,
and each of them will appear before God in Jerusalem.
Psalm 84

See, it fits. The weeping, the rain, the pilgrimage (which I can only imagine was long and painful and tough on the ole' feet, particularly without a pair of modern supporting shoes). Yet somehow the tears are refreshing and blessing and strengthening for the journey. Appearing before God in Jerusalem - that's the analogy for fullness of life. There is joy right at the start because of the hope at the end. Hence, though pain is the route taken it does not remain the focus or theme, it is not the goal and, actually, it brings with it the necessary strength to arrive at the final destination.