I was in an Urgent Care this evening, crying my eyes out due to the pressure in my ears. I remember when I was maybe three years old, sitting on my mom's lap and crying my eyes out for the same reason. I remember saying something about God to her, like, "Why does God let this happen?" or "Why does God hate me?"
Tonight, I practiced all the breathing techniques I know (maybe three... mostly different counts of inhale-hold-exhale) to deal with the pain. I paced, I sat, I prayed. I prayed not just for myself but for a few other people I know to be in pain right now, including people who are literally in war zones or being tortured. I pray for them most. I told God that he is still good, even though I was in pain. I thanked him for being with me while I was in pain. And that's my entire theology of suffering. That's it.
I drove to the pharmacy and acquired at little cost: Sudafed, amoxicillin, and prednisone, all of which I dosed up in the parking lot, and prayed to drive safely home in spite of my compromised reaction time. All was well. I lay down on the couch and writhed and wailed until the medicines took effect.
"Only Physical"
Something else is going on with these thoughts. While I was waiting for the doctor, I thought, "at least it's not losing my child. She's safe at home, going to bed. At least this is only physical." But I don't believe in "only physical." If I had lost my child, the pain would be so acute as to actually be physical, not just psychological. And is any pain psychological only? Aren't we experiencing it with our physical mind? Praise God for the physical. "Only" nothing. It's a seamless everything.
