by John Monroe
Have you ever thought about what it means to be, “patient”? The definition means, “able to accept or tolerate delays, problems, or suffering without becoming annoyed or anxious”. There is a word in that definition I personally don't like.
Suffering.
The word reminds me of every terrible physical and emotional trauma I’ve experienced.
Suffering conveys distress, pain, or hardship for any person. It’s a spectrum for the entire human experience. You may be resilient to some suffering while others may be more than you can bear.
You may even feel that you should apologize for your suffering, or that you’re not allowed to even consider your hardship as suffering or pain. You might dismiss mental health help or the problem itself, maybe growing up you were told some variation of,
“Some people have it so much worse.”
Think about the oddity of this statement — you can’t be hurting just because someone else is hurting worse.
I believe this is the equivalent of walking into an emergency room and apologizing for your broken thumb when you see someone who has a more serious injury. You’re both hurt; these truths are not meant to compete.
So, what does it mean to be patient with suffering?
I find that I’m not very patient, especially when I’m hurting. That’s the truth about suffering, isn’t it? I’m hurting. I want it to go away, plain and simple. I don’t want to talk about it, I want the metaphorical Tylenol for suffering. Very rarely is there a one-stop, fix-all solution to suffering.
Just as the pain is multi-faceted, so is my healing.
My hurt demands attention and relationship with others. It also asks me to be patient.
I like to speak as though there are different parts of me all existing at the same time. For example, there is a part of me that is hurting and it doesn’t know when the pain will stop. It just wants me to stop yelling at it to get over it. This part of my heart needs grief, affirmation, and safety to un-box its complexity. There is no timeline for this process, and continually pestering this hurt with, “Are you done yet?” is not very patient.
Patience is a discipline that requires me to tell the truth about what has happened and wait. As I wait I begin to see how people I love join me in my hurt. Acknowledging that my pain is not a burden on them, they want me.
A sensation begins to stir in my gut, and I notice how grateful I am for these people who do not want to fix me. They just want me to know I’m not alone.
As I remain patient, a new friend joins me. He is calm and content and just exists in this gratitude towards God and others for not trying to fix me. This friend's name is Joy. Joy is not at all how I imagined. Instead of this bubbly, happy, and annoyingly optimistic character I imagined. Joy is calm, peaceful, and present. Joy’s timid voice reminds me of the people I love and that this present suffering will not be meaningless despite how meaningless it seems. Joy is the sigh of relief after a good cry.
Joy is what carries me through my suffering. It reminds me of the faith that quells my fear, the healing that will come from my hurt, and the humility that my shame can bring. Joy has stipulations for his presence. I must be patient with suffering, otherwise, I resort to any form of behavior that distracts me from feeling and seeing the truth.
Be patient with your suffering friends, your journey through life will be full of it.
Joy is waiting and will never leave. There is hope for a better day.
At Kardia Collective, individual counseling is available to you if you need mental health help or support with being patient through your suffering. Reach out today to request an appointment.