Here is an email that I sent to one of my students who asked for a brief extension on an assignment, due to her migraines. I mentioned to her that I used to suffer for them as well. She asked if I still had them. Here is my reply. (I left out her name to be careful not to violate her confidentiality.)
Dear __________,
Yes, the migraines do not afflict me now, thank you. In fact, I have very few headaches of any kind these days (even though I have a very slight one right now).
I am sorry for all your health concerns, and I realize that there are many things that can cause migraines. Even though I highly value medical professionals (my wife is a nurse), I am not sure that even the medical experts understand migraines fully.
That headache that I had for eight days was the last really severe one I’ve had. I will tell you a true story, except that I will clean it up a little, leaving out the crucial word. You can fill in the blank if you like.
When I was having this l o n g eight-day headache, I was living on Tylenol, which helped a little. Sound went through my head like a spike. My wife and kids, even if they talked in a normal tone of voice, were yelling. I could hardly keep my food down.
I was scheduled to go on a retreat to a Trappist monastery in Kentucky with a friend who was a Catholic priest, but I thought of canceling it. My wife said, “Oh, why don’t you go? It might do you good.”
When my friend arrived, he visited with Sharon for a few minutes and then we headed out for our four-day spiritual retreat. Before we had gone very far, Jerome said to me, “You’re not feeling well, are you, Daryl?”
“Oh,” I said, “I’ve had this headache for eight days, and nothing seems to help. I almost canceled on you, but Sharon said it might be a good idea for me to go.”
“Daryl,” my friend said, “what do you expect of yourself?”
I wasn’t really prepared for that question, but I thought for a moment and said, “I just want to be a good man, and I’m not.”
My friend replied, “No, you want to be perfect.”
“No, Jerome, I just want to be a good man, and I’m not.”
And then, my friend said something which not only pretty much chased the migraines away, but which has transformed my life. He said, “Sometimes I think we need an #$%?! theology. We’re all a bunch of #$%?!s, and God loves us anyway.”
My friend almost never used such language, so I was rather shocked. I also thought that it was very funny. I laughed and I cried, and then I laughed and cried some more. Within ten minutes, the headache was gone. They have never come back with such ferocity again.
___________, I don’t question that there are weighty medical issues that are causing (or at least exacerbating) your migraines. However, I wonder: Are you a perfectionist?
I believe in miracles, and I also believe that the love of God is the greatest miracle of all. Those of us who are Christ-followers give lip-service to the idea that God loves us just as we are. But we need to let that love for us—just as we are—to permeate every cell in our body. We are perfectly lovable, even in our imperfections.
By the way, now that I’ve told you this true story, I’ve noticed that my head isn’t hurting. Of course, the cup of coffee may have helped a little too.
Warm Regards and Prayers,
Daryl
For better or worse (or both?), I think analogically. Perhaps all human thinking is analogical, but that is way beyond me.
As I was driving to my twelve-step meeting this morning, the thought occurred to me that living in the love of God is rather like driving a car. The analogy is almost an allegory, valid even in the nitty-gritty details.
I did not build the car I am currently driving. Indeed, Sharon was the main provider of the car, since she was working full-time when “we” purchased it, and I was not.
Similarly, I do not make God love me. Yet, I have all too frequently acted as if I needed to do so—as if I need to make the God who is love (1 John 4:8) do what he already is! What stupid arrogance! It would be comical, if were not so serious.
And yet, if I get in my car and just sit there, I will not go anywhere. The love of God is not an inert substance. It’s goal is to energize us for holy, disciplined, loving living, and this requires our interaction.
Furthermore, there are other drivers on the road, and I need to take them into account. I need to be careful and courteous.
John, in his first letter, repeatedly connects God’s love for us with how we treat others. In 1 John 4:1-21 (whence came the quote about God being love), John makes it clear that love of God and love of other people cannot be divorced.
No doubt, you’ve seen the sign “HOW’S MY DRIVING?” Sometimes the question is followed by a phone number you can call, if you see anything unsafe or discourteous. Perhaps I need to wear a shirt that says “HOW’S MY LIVING?” What would my tee shirt say after these words? Perhaps, “COMPLAIN TO GOD IF YOU SEE ME LIVING UNSAFELY OR DISCOURTEOUSLY!” Or better, “CALL ME ON IT IF YOU SEE ME LIVING UNSAFELY OR DISCOURTEOUSLY!”
The analogy between the love of God and driving a car could be pressed much further, I suspect. However, I think I’ll just mention one more item, which I will put in the form of a question: Am I driving God’s love in a distracted manner? Distracted driving is a serious matter. So is distracted living. Unless I keep God’s love front and center in my life, I will be distracted. And the only worse thing that distracted driving of a vehicle is distracted living.
Recent Comments