A couple of weeks ago, I had a few days full of sadness and fear. Not for myself, but for people I cared about. Everywhere I looked, people were hurting. Scary medical diagnoses. Losses of loved ones. Job losses. I had no solutions for any of them, all I could do was hurt and pray.
So it was no surprise when I woke up one morning with a tight knot just inside my right shoulder blade. Experience has taught me that unless I take medication soon, I will have a migraine in 24 hours.
The Body Keeps Score
Compared to a lot of other health conditions, medical science still doesn’t understand migraine. We don’t know the exact physical changes that lead to the pain. In fact, the theory I was taught in pharmacy school has since been disproven. We do know that people often have triggers, like stress, lack of sleep, or certain foods (I have all three), and that many people have a prodrome phase about 24 hours ahead and an aura about an hour ahead (I have both of those as well).
As I was thinking about how our emotions affect our physical bodies, and about my own sadness for my hurting friends, I remembered the medical phenomenon known as “broken heart syndrome.” This occurs when the body is put under immense stress, either physical or emotional, that not only causes chest pain, but also observable changes in the heart itself. Portions of the heart wall can even balloon out and thin.
Supportive Care, Not Quick Fixes
Broken Heart Syndrome needs what we call in the medical field, “supportive care.” In other words, time and rest. There is no magic formula or overnight fix. This is true of so many of the hard things in life. We don’t have quick fixes. There are no magic words to make the pain disappear.
We are often uncomfortable with the sadness of others. We want to rush the healing or explain it away. We don’t spend enough time sitting with others in their sadness and letting them heal.
We don’t, in turn, allow others to sit with us in our pain, either. We lock it away, try to smile, and don’t share.
This is not community. And this is not embodiment. This is stoicism.
As someone who has not done this well—on either end—I am hesitant to offer advice. I am also keenly aware that my suffering is minor compared to the suffering of others. Even my migraines are minor compared to what most endure.
Be Honest About Your Pain
I am often reluctant to share my pain or my weakness. I remind myself that my pain is so minor compared to the burdens others carry, so I don’t share. I also don’t want to appear to be complaining. But our loneliness (which is, at its root, lack of friendship) stems in large part from our silence. As C.S. Lewis states in The Four Loves, “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.’”
How can others help us if we don’t tell them we need help? And how can others feel comfortable opening up to us if we walk around acting like we always have it together?
Don’t Fear the Emotions of Others
We tell ourselves we don’t want to bother people. We don’t ask because we don’t want to risk upsetting them. Maybe they don’t want to talk. Sometimes that is a sincere fear. Most of the time it is an excuse.
Then, when the emotions do come, we try to cajole them into happiness. We pat their hands and inch away. Job’s friends did just fine when they sat with him in his pain. It’s when they tried to explain it that they ran into trouble.
Embrace the “Messy First Draft”
My main advice for writing is to start, because you can’t edit a blank page. I think that applies to all of life. We don’t entertain because our house isn’t up to snuff. We don’t make the call because it might not be a good time.
If you call and it’s not a good time for them, they will still be encouraged by your effort. If you reach out and don’t say the right thing, at least you said something.
Like the practitioner treating Broken Heart Syndrome, you can’t fix it. You can only offer supportive care. It’s messy and unpredictable. You will come up with a million reasons why it can wait.
Our God heals the broken hearted and binds up their wounds (Psalm 147:3). He takes our thin, worn out, strained hearts and holds them in his hands. He is with us in the migraine and the panic attack. In the hard conversations and the heart aches. The healing, in all of these things, takes time. We don’t like things we can’t fix, but we can hold the hands of the hurting as they wait on the fixer.
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