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.
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Outward actions:
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Codependence
Suicidal thoughts/actions
Emotional Apathy
Self mutilation
Addictions to: Food, Drugs/alcohol/caffeine, Sex, Fantasy, etc
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Emotions:
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Pain
Fear
Anger
Loneliness, etc
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Unmet needs:
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To be Loved
To be Accepted
To be Touched
To be Respected
To be Cared For
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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