Pain is Pain

I found myself stunned today, silently pleading that God would give me wisdom I knew I didn't have.

Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird continues to hit the heart of readers some fifty years after its original publication date.  The responses from my students in Idaho to the injustices of deep South racism made me fall in love all over again with the book I read as a 16-year-old, but my students in Kansas today made me remember why this book continues to appeal to teenagers: it's relevant.

Charles Lamb once said, "Lawyers, I suppose, were children once."

Quite a packed quote.

If children are viewed as honest, carefree, naive, selfless, and innocent beings, contrast them with the stereotype that tends to be placed on lawyers: lying, uptight, all-business, selfish, greedy, and desensitized beings.  Are all lawyers this way?  Absolutely not.  But the lawyers who fit this list of adjectives, unfortunately, tarnish the names of a profession, not just their own.

One of Lee's most prevalent themes in the novel is the loss of innocence. 

Lawyers, too, were once innocent and naive, as children are.  But the harsh realities of their profession wore their innocence away.  Slowly over time or quickly in one instance makes no difference.  Innocence lost cannot be regained.

And so I posed the question: "Can you remember an age or a specific moment where you felt your innocence was lost?"

The first student said, "When my grandpa died. We were really close." He was age 8.

The second student said, "When I got cancer." She was age 4.

 The next student said, "When my dad left." He was age 4.

And the next student said, "When I visited my mom in prison.  I couldn't hug her when it was time to say goodbye." He was age 7.

The classroom was very quiet, because I didn't call on the next student to share.

I had a hard time recovering, so I just stopped, praying for wisdom.

For many of my students today, their innocence wasn't just worn down over time, it was ripped out of their hands before they even knew what was happening.

Jerry Bridges said, "God never allows pain without a purpose in the lives of His children. He never allows Satan, nor circumstances, nor any ill-intending person to afflict us unless He uses that affliction for our good. God never wastes pain. He always causes it to work together for our ultimate good, the good of conforming us more to the likeness of His Son."

Romans 8: 28 and 29 say, "...we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. ²⁹ For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters."

I told my students that they each have a story, and their stories matter.  No pain is wasted.  I thanked them for sharing their stories with me, and went silent again.

The silence hung for about ten seconds, then the bell rang and the students were dismissed.  But I cannot get names off of my heart this evening. 

I've carried home the hurts of my students today, but I'm also rejoicing in Hope.  Hope endured pain, for us, and I know that we don't hurt alone or unnoticed.  And as Josh said after I shared today's events with him, "Pain is pain, and kids are kids," in Idaho, and here in Kansas.  And I believe our God can handle our hurts.

Our stories really do matter.

What's yours?