Friday I went shopping. With two stuffed shopping bags slung over my right shoulder, making my back scream with anger at me, I had to lean hard to my left on my cane. Nearly home, the walk proved too much for me and despite the cane, I fell hard to the ground.
My housemate and best friend saw it happen. When I couldn’t move because the pain was too much, he got worried. When I could speak, I asked for a hand up. Together, we could not do it. I was angry at myself. At my pain. I knew better than to carry that much weight, but I’m a stubborn man and I tried my best. Two women in cars stopped to see if I was okay. One got out and came over to help. She apparently knew I lived in the next building but I didn’t know her. Ugly men like me you just don’t forget.
She helped me untangle the straps and get the bags up on my shoulder. The other woman had waited in her car but made sure I was up and walking before she left. Such kindness and concern had me near tears.
With far too much pain, I made it down the steps and inside, one bag at a time. In what I can only describe as agony, I put my groceries away then rested a minute. I had stopped on the way back for smokes, and got a mini of 12-year-old scotch. I thought, a little drink and this pain will ease up a bit. It didn’t. I downed it in one gulp and waited. Nothing. I guess it didn’t hurt, but it didn’t help. Actually it was really good scotch. But I can’t go down that road again. I lost too much drying out.
One Man Can Make A Difference
A friend, a neighbor, who showed his good heart the first time he said, “Hey, brother, how’s everything” in passing didn’t know my name. But he called me “brother” and I knew that here indeed was a good man. He smiled when he said it.
His name is Jerry. I didn’t know that until about a year ago. Friday , after I’d rested up from my walk and my fall, I needed a smoke. I saw Jerry pulling up after his trip from work and we greeted each other.
Then, uncharacteristically, he decided to approach. I told him I’d fallen, how much pain I was in, and get this: he had a 4-wheel foldable cart for groceries that he was going to throw out a few days earlier, but he had seen me on a cane before, carrying groceries. He told his wife, “I’ll bet Mike would be able to use it.” So he kept it and brought it over to me.
Friends
He said we were neighbors and should look out for each other. I said, “Jerry, we’re friends,” and that touched him. He said, “And I’ll take that.” His hand, over his heart. I almost cried.
Jerry told me that he and his wife met in their teens and have been together since. It wasn’t always storybook suff, though. He was, at some point, using heroin, crack cocaine and PCP. All at once. How did he live through that?
His wife stayed with him the whole time, and God knows the future. He knows that he can motivate us to use our suffering to teach others certain things.
Our father knows your heart. Knows everything that’s happened to us, everything we’ve done. He knows he can speak through you if you’re willing. Jerry was willing. Clean and sober for years, he became a pastor. The best of those, they’ve suffered. I don’t believe a Joel Osteen or those like him know what true pain and suffering are. If they ever did, they forsook the lessons they learned for money. That’s squandering life’s lessons and betraying the one, true God. The words of Jesus made clear what the fate of men like that would be. And the picture his words painted? No horror movie can ever come close.
A rich man approached Jesus and asked about eternal life after death. The answer was, “Go and sell all that you have. Give the money to the poor, and come, follow me.” This made the rich man turn away. He worshipped money far more than any god.
Jerry has suffered. He gets the value of pain. He knows we all learn from it. Still, before he left, he asked if he could say a prayer for me. I said, “please,” and closed my eyes. The prayer was beautiful, almost lyrical. Ordinarily I wouldn’t have been receptive to that and declined the offer. I would have anxiety attacks. Pure panic. But for this man, my friend, I very much wanted, and knew I needed, his prayers for me.
Old things left me in those moments. I knew his prayers were powerful, that his faith made them so.
I felt as if I was lighter than ever I had felt. Some kind of weight was taken from me. My faith was weak, so it wasn’t my doing. He prayed for a miracle and I had doubts.
Whether my pain left, the answer is no, but it did decrease. Some people are meant to suffer. We are never going to learn the biggest lessons in our lives without pain. When everything is peaceful, we enjoy it, and that’s okay.
But it is in the worst of times that we learn life’s most profound and useful things. And we’re meant to share that pain so that others may gain wisdom and avoid some of the trials we went through. This leaves room for them to have their own experiences and learn from them, then to pass to others those lessons. When that works, it can save lives.
God doesn’t always protect us from harm. I think he knows our pain but also knows that ultimately you’ll help others through it.
This suffering I’ve been through made me strong but I was angry and bitter. As Jerry prayed for me, a sword was taken out of my hand. If he expected a miracle, he got it. The anger and the bitterness are gone. In their place sits something good and positive. I’m not the same. I can’t describe this feeling, because I’ve never had it before. My faith is stronger. My ability to pray is unlocked. I am more at peace than I have ever felt.
I’m serious and I’m telling you the truth.
If he has sinned, he will be forgiven. Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.
–James Chapter 5, v. 16-20.
Jerry is a gift from God and I think he approached me because God whispered in his ear.
To Jerry and all of those like him, I say, thank you.
May you all find such a good man as he, and call him “friend”.
Memoirs of an American Christian 