Men In Pain and Unmet Needs

Men In Pain 
By David Hazard

“My father didn’t raise any whiners,” Carl says.

That’s what Carl told himself for half a year, while ignoring the painful lumps that mysteriously rose and fell in his left armpit. Now, he sits propped in a hospital bed, emaciated by the chemotherapy, bearing no resemblance to the athlete he once was.  Carl could have upped his odds of beating the lymphatic cancer that’s now beating him -- if only he’d responded to his body’s early-warning system. If only he’d respected his wife’s pleas to see a doctor.

Given Carl’s physical symptoms, many of us would have run -- not walked -- to a medical specialist. But do we pay attention when the man inside -- think of him as a mostly healthy guy just like you, and with a spiritual nervous system -- sends out distress signals?  When an important relationship is failing -- say, with the woman we love, our kids, a friend -- do we merely tough it out in silence?

Do we pay attention when stabs of anxiety or regret wake us up at night? Do we notice what unchecked frustration and anger do to our lives? Some of us endure numbing loneliness -- a paralyzing isolation -- and call our endurance “overcoming.” Privately, we suspect that we’re without a friend or brother because we’re somehow defective.  Pain smacks every one of us. Sometimes it settles in like a whole season of dismal rain. Why don’t we listen up when the guy who lives inside us says, “Excuse me, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m in pain”?

ADMITTING THE NEED
“So I guess you’re writing to all the sensitive guys out there,” a friend of mine smirked when I mentioned the subject of men and inner pain. “Men can’t stand self-pity. No man wants to sit around in a puddle of his own tears. Most men just ‘suck it in’ and take it.”

No question, merely raising the matter of inner conflict or hurt makes men pretty uncomfortable.

Let’s be honest: What we don’t like to deal with we have many artful ways to dodge. We make jokes. We belittle. If the truth hits too close, we go into a silent smolder that effectively warns people to back off. Pushed too far we flash severe looks, or bark, or blow up, even at the people most concerned for us.  We like to stay focused on our outward successes, because it keeps our eyes off the fact that inner growth and change aren’t happening.

“I take care of my spiritual life,” insists George, another friend. “I go to church. Read my Bible. I pray.”
His wife sits beside him, with a flat expression, vaguely shaking her head in disagreement. When he steps out of the room, she confides: “He goes to church to have them pray about me. They think he’s Mr. Wonderful and I’m his ‘nag.’ But at home, I get the brunt of his short temper when his boss is giving him a terrible time. And I’m the one who’s behind him, telling him to take the risks -- to go out on his own. He could make it on his own. I believe that. But there’s something going on inside him that he just won’t talk about. He won’t accept any help or advice. And I’m tired of being his whipping post when I’m the one -- not his friends who see him dressed up in a suit -- who’s trying to help him find out what’s wrong and deal with it.”

A lot of us have learned -- the hard way -- a simple fact that would help George get out of his unhappy rut: Maintaining a healthy spiritual life doesn’t necessarily come from our faithfulness to otherwise good Christian practices. Every one of us has negative forces that are working on us -- and working in us.

Jesus emphatically warned the men of His day about this. He told them clearly it was a terrible mistake to pay attention only to the “outside of the cup.” That is, to make themselves “look good” by careful attention to their outward religious practices -- while ignoring the real issues of the spiritual life that rest “inside the cup” (see Matt. 23:25-26). No surprise, when Jesus pointed this out to the most religious men, it made them so furious they decided to have him killed.  Truth and honesty in the “inner parts” is what brings powerful change, producing the strength and integrity we want in our lives (see Ps. 51:6).

If the idea of facing inner hurt makes you irritated, maybe that’s a clear signal you’re spending a lot of time in the defense mode. Is it time to do some honest business with that man inside? Before you answer, consider some reasons why it may be time to come out from behind your fortress.

LOUDER THAN WORDS
You’ve heard them yourself -- those messages that come across despite the words someone is mouthing at you. Take the guy who looks you in the eye and tries to sell you the biggest line you’ve ever heard. You know his story doesn’t add up. But the odd thing is, this guy seems to believe what he’s saying.

Why talk about inner pain with men? Simple. Falseness and self-deception toot their own horn.
The hurt a man refuses to face is communicated powerfully and unmistakably. Sometimes it’s unspoken -- in cold or warning looks. Sometimes we use plain words or rejection -- “Leave me alone.”  When it comes to the people closest to us, those who get the full treatment of our true selves, what we communicate can even be devastating. Pain that we won’t face is more than communicated. It can even be passed along -- maybe in numbing silences, or in chronic low-grade irritation, or in biting words. All of these reactions hack at the lifelines of love we really want and need.

What are we passing along when we think we’re doing a great job by controlling and containing inner conflicts?  Jack, a friend in his late 30s, is pretty typical. “I know Jack is hurting because his plumbing business is on the verge of failure and our finances are in big trouble,” his wife says.  “But he gives me this hateful look when I try to talk about it. I’m only trying to help him get it off his chest. He tells me he can handle it without my help. So, fine. It really hurts me when he blows up. And it terrifies the kids. He doesn’t think they’re afraid of him, but they are.”  Painfully she adds, “This is no marriage.”  Is this what any man wants to pass along as part of his spiritual legacy?

CHRISTIAN MAN -- OR CHRISTIAN MASK?
Ray, an elder in a large church, was impressively stolid when his third daughter tossed out her Christian upbringing and left home. Months later, she returned devastated, carrying the child of a man who had used, then dumped her.

Ray was top-flight with handling the practical needs at hand. He focused his daughter on finding a job. Got her to a counselor who helped her make decisions about the baby. But when it came to the emotional mix of grief and anger that barreled into Ray’s home, he froze in the headlights.  His wife, Clare, and their daughters needed to talk about the hurt. Ray’s terse reply was: “Just don’t cry. Crying doesn’t help anything.”

Ray’s approach was applauded by other Christian men who admired him for being “rock solid” and “unmoved” in the midst of all this female emotional upset. Few of these men understood the other side of the coin.

Clare and their girls needed more from Ray than cool objectivity. They needed him to enter into their lives. Did he hurt the way they hurt? Did he care? They also needed him to look at long-standing cracks in their relational foundations.  Clare fell into months of clinical depression in which she could barely function. Ray refused to let her see a counselor. After all, she was an elder’s wife. Instead he posted Bible verses on the refrigerator and told her: “Christians don’t get depressed. Depression is sin.”

The image in Ray’s personal mirror -- the image of “a true Christian” -- can’t include depression or failure. And the message he passed on was clear: You’re depressed, so in my eyes you’re not acting like a Christian.
It’s as if Ray is programmed to keep up a good front for all his Christian friends. I doubt he even realizes it. But it’s so important that he be seen as a good Christian man in their eyes.

His wife says: “For years, I thought it was just me. ‘You’re too emotional’ -- that’s what he’d tell me. But I think Ray doesn’t know how to be honest emotionally. Even now, he keeps telling people we’re all ‘fine.’ We’re not. But he won’t face the truth.

“What’s the truth? -- that our family isn’t ‘perfect.’ In part, I think [our daughter] rebelled because we expected her to be perfect. Ray has always avoided the fact that his family is human and we fail. I think Ray would accept help if he could keep his ‘perfect image’ intact. But in order to admit you need help your front has to come down. He’s an elder. I pray he’ll get humble enough to admit he has real inner needs.”

Ray’s aim is to present the image of a perfect Christian family. He did everything his religious beliefs told him to do, but it didn’t bring the promised results. No wonder he’s circled the emotional wagons when his own family is experiencing moral failure, emotional depression and disintegrating communication.

It’s not surprising that Ray’s great strength -- his objectivity, and strong focus on living up to standards -- is also his greatest weakness. How sad that Ray’s one-sided view of spiritual devotion is the very thing that keeps him from opening up to bigger possibilities -- that keeps him from leading his family to the other spiritual growth they need: The ability to trust that they will be cared for and not ignored when they’re hurting.

Trust is a mark of a Christian. Trust happens when we step out from the walls of self-reliance and admit we are in a no-man’s land where our only security is in God. Trust is the beginning of spiritual adventure in unfamiliar territories of the heart.

Unless the thing we’re protecting is mere ego, we cannot lose when we risk, when we reach out for more honesty, more spiritual health.

WHERE DO I GROW FROM HERE?
What are some of the marks we can aim for as new men in Christ?  One mark is a new type of honesty. Mere endurance does not make us more manly if we don’t know how to finally overcome. It may be that our circumstances are unchangeable, but we can find a newer, greater spiritual strength -- if we are willing to make the first step and reach out for help.

A second mark of a man who’s growing stronger in spirit is that he’s willing to follow somebody who can get him through unknown territory. Who among us doesn’t need an honest relationship with a pastor, counselor or mentor? We need somebody who doesn’t impose solutions, but does bring us face-to-face with the issues. Somebody who helps us come to terms with the man inside and helps us negotiate the difficult way from pain to peaceful resolution.

A third mark is a willingness to risk finding brothers who can walk alongside us. These are guys who don’t indulge in spiritual one-upmanship or use the Bible on us like Darth Vader with his “light saber.” They are friends with whom we can have a healthy give-and-take -- with the freedom to notice each other’s impatience, anger, blaming or lying and the guts to encourage us to leave them behind.

Who needs this kind of support? All of us.

Watching NBA play-offs on television with a roomful of men recently, I had to smile. At one high-pressure moment, one player was pulling the weight of his team alone. My friends were jumping to their feet, shouting like maniacs. “Help him out!” “Be there!” “Support your man!” “Give him somebody to pass off to!”

Every one of us felt for the poor guy who was trying hard and getting creamed, with no team support. There’s a powerful message we need to bring to everyday life. I need the support of a spiritual “team” -- a group of men who share the same spiritual goals, and who will be there to support me when I’m struggling. You and I need the team support of other men.

A fourth mark, and the most important one: we can ask God to create a new-man image in us. This begins when we come to God honestly -- needs and all. When we are honest about what we lack, we can trust Him to give us new strength and character we need. He will give us Christ like patience, kindness and compassion, as we leave behind immature and unrealistic demands on ourselves and others.

As men who follow Christ, we can create a new spiritual legacy to pass along to those we promise to love and protect. We no longer have to be driven by pretense into isolation. We can be drawn into honest friendships, where we are growing with other men. Men who can take a “pass off” when the pressure’s on -- who can pray and encourage us when we feel slammed by life.

Maybe there are men around you right now who also want to do some honest business with the man inside. Sure, they may look “together,” possibly a few of them have been hoping that someone would blaze a trail to greater honesty and spiritual growth.

Is it possible you’re the one who can lead the way?

Unmet Needs 


There are many reasons why people have outward actions.  Unresolved abuse, addiction to pornography, alcohol, or food, unwanted sexual attractions, pornography, etc.  These outward expressions relate to wanting to kill or escape from pain and all the emotions that are normally associated with that pain.  Emotions arise because of unmet needs, i.e. love, acceptance, respect, etc.

Outward actions:

Codependence
Suicidal thoughts/actions
Emotional Apathy
Self mutilation
Addictions to: Food, Drugs/alcohol/caffeine, Sex, Fantasy, etc

Emotions:

Pain
Fear
Anger
Loneliness, etc

Unmet needs:

To be Loved
To be Accepted
To be Touched
To be Respected
To be Cared For

No matter what the outward action someone is struggling with the roots of an unmet need.  These are the same for all issues. Since the roots are the same, we believe that talking to others that have had similar experiences can be helpful.  While the roots are the same, the manifestations of those roots are as varied as there are people in the world. Since this is the case, the ways to pursue healing are also varied. The core issues listed on the left hand side of the page talk more specifically about a particular issue and give tips on how to pursue healing in each area. We do not believe that these articles are a substitute for talking to safe people and being in community of support. 

  
Men In Pain and Unmet Needs  

 

 Return to Main Page