Recently, I’ve had a lot of firsthand experience with pain. Nothing too bad, but more than I normally encounter.

There have been the occasional discomforts: the below freezing temperatures I have to endure on my way to class, the throbbing in my hands after a good day of igloo building, and even something as minor as stubbing my toe on my way to the kitchen.

Then there have also been some more substantial hurts: experiencing the most pain I’ve ever felt after my knee surgery, bending my knee at physical therapy, learning to walk again, and dealing with the day-to-day aches associated with traversing a college campus post-op.

It was on a day like this, as I took painful steps through the cold on my way to physical therapy, that I started reflecting on a piece of advice given to me by a friend after my surgery:

Live in the pain.

Live in the pain. Those words made me stop and think as I did my physical therapy exercises. Instead of wincing and finishing as soon as I could, I paused to reflect about what I was feeling. And when I was getting back on my feet again, and each step brought a little twinge of pain to my knee, I tried to stop thinking about how annoying this whole deal was, and instead to actually experience it.

How rare, I realized, this experience of pain is nowadays. At the first sign of discomfort, I look for alternate path. What if, I wondered, I lived in the pain instead of running from it?

Pain Has Purpose

Our culture often has a tendency to ignore pain, to play “tough guy.” Headache? Grab a pain pill and keep going. Injury? Shake it off, and stand up. Illness? Whatever you do, don’t miss school or work.

Keep going. Keep chugging. Rub some dirt on it.

But, at the expense of our tough guy act comes the beautiful opportunity to stop and think about what pain means, about how significant it actually is. We spend so much time brushing off the “inconvenience” of our pains that we fail to see how God can work through them.

And how significant is this suffering, you ask? Why does it matter that our bodies experience pain?

Let me point you to some of the most important words in our faith:

“This is my Body, which will be given up for you,”

One With Christ

We are body and soul. Yes, our souls are eternal, but our bodies matter, too. In fact, although they are now imperfect, one day they will be united with our souls in heaven.

Nowhere do we see more clearly the value of the body, specifically, in this dual nature than at Calvary.

Christ experienced emotional and spiritual suffering, but at the root of this horror was the physical act: the crucifixion. It was this physical event that provoked his emotional and spiritual desolation and that, ultimately, led him to death.

In His words at the Last Supper, we see that, although Christ gave up much for His Church, one aspect stands above the rest: His Body. Christ endured for our sake until he physically could endure no longer, until the breath left His lungs.

The physical nature of His offering provides us with a tangible proof of His love. He bled so we wouldn’t have to. He died so we could have new life.

It is this that we celebrate when we look at a cross. Where a symbol of death once stood, we see a symbol of sacrificial love. And when we gaze upon the Eucharist, we see that this sacrificial love was so strong and so tangible that we can hold it in our very hands.

The value of the body–of Christ’s Body–cannot be understated. The fact that Christ experienced pain unto the point of death is the reason Christians have such hope.

Sharing the Cross

All this to say… we are never closer to Christ than we are amid suffering.

Yes, He’s always here. Yes, He knows our human experiences. He knows our hunger, our frustration, our temptation. But even more significant than Christ becoming man was the fact that Christ died for man.

We would be nothing without the Cross. Our faith is founded not only on the fact that Christ came to earth, but that He came to save us from our sins, a mission impossible to accomplish without His Passion and death. This means that His pain is of infinite significance—all because it was endured for us.

When we experience physical suffering, we have a rare opportunity to see the world as Christ did during His last moments of incomparable love. We have the opportunity to take our pain, to take our Cross, and not bury it or curse it…but humbly accept it for the good of another.

We have a chance to love like Jesus did.

Small Things With Great Love

Until knee surgery, I knew very little about significant pain. And even now, as I recover, I realize that I’ve got things easy in comparison to many others.

But the message of the cross is the same, regardless. From stubbed toes to terminal cancer, there is a beautiful paradox: suffering and hope.

There is pain, yes. But there is also an invitation to offer up this pain. In our physical discomfort–major or minor–we are presented with a choice: curse and roll our eyes, or accept it gladly.

How can we accept our pain? How can we experience it, instead of fleeing?

For starters, we can turn painful moments into a reflection on the Passion. As your stubbed toe throbs with pain, for example, you can quiet yourself and think about the throbbing of Christ’s hands and feet on the Cross. In this way, a simple discomfort can be elevated to the divine. It can allow us to join our suffering to that of Christ Crucified.

In a similar way, this pain can be offered for one another. Just as Christ endured torture with love for His children in mind, we can pause amid suffering and invite God to nail our pain to His Cross, united for the sake of saving souls.

“Allow me this discomfort, God,” we can offer, “and I will gladly bear it for Your sake and the sake of Your children.”

This doesn’t mean we like our pain, or that we necessarily want for it to continue. Rather, we offer up our circumstances to God, letting Him decide what will best bring about His Kingdom…regardless of whether or not we like it.

If He decides our pain will best bring Him glory, we rejoice. If, on the other hand, our relief will best bring Him glory, we rejoice all the same.

Through this sacrifice, we can join our pain to God’s sacrifice on the Cross, turning a mere human experience into participation in the salvation of all mankind.

Don’t Run

Brothers and sisters, the cross hurt.

Nails were driven through skin and muscles and tendons. Christ’s shoulder was pulled out of its socket. Thorns punctured His skin. Whips shredded His back. Jesus Christ struggled for breath after hours of blood loss and fatigue. He gasped and cried out to God as the life left Him.

You can’t deny He experienced pain.

But what makes this more than just an execution is the fact that He didn’t run from this pain. He didn’t roll His eyes and curse. Jesus Christ lived in the pain. He thought of you–you, individually. He offered up His pain for you. He remembered the greater good being done through His suffering.

And how this offering changes everything…

I encourage you to try living in the pain this Lent. As you experience pain–big or small–look to the open arms of One who experienced the same. Don’t run away from it, but give it to Him. Bring Him your brokenness. Bring Him your Cross.

“This is my Body, which will be given up for you,” He says. He gives nothing but love. So let us do the same. Let us lay down our bodies for Him, bearing our daily crosses for His sake.

Editor’s Note: For more resources on the worth of each life, especially the lives of those vulnerable to suicide, check out: http://www.commitlife.com/
If you or someone you love is struggling with depression, anxiety, and/or suicidal thoughts click here for help.