On Suffering

I was appreciative of Kevin Wells writing a glowing review of my book recently. But it put me in a weird head space. I felt dirty. I immediately prayed the litany of humility that evening. The next day I went cold turkey from 100mg of nicotine per day to zero. And then we all got COVID. 

If I'm honest, I pray very little when I am suffering; in the moment, it's just pure survival. As Catholics, we have a theology of suffering. It doesn't have to be wasted or meaningless, but can be redemptive. But I take solace in the words of St Teresa of Avila, “It shouldn’t be thought that he who suffers isn’t praying, for he is offering this to God. And often he is praying much more than the one who is breaking his head in solitude, thinking that if he has squeezed out some tears he is thereby praying.”

It's weird; God sent us physical illness as a grace, I think. I haven't been sick in over a year and then get hit with this double whammy of the physical and psychological hell of withdrawal/detoxing in addition to COVID. Strange timing. Plus trying to keep on the level with my mental health in addition to everything else.

In some ways, I've been trying to get through it by adopting the life of a temporary anchorite. Our bed is tucked in a small, closet type alcove off the main bedroom. For the past week, I have been going to bed before 7pm and sleeping 13 hours a day most days. The past few days, I have been soaking the sheets with sweat and waking up with chills, feeling clammy and gross. I haven't taken a hot shower in two years, but I afforded myself a hot shower the past few days in the morning. I can't read, can't write. I'm just trying to notch the days like a prisoner in his cell, at least until the drug is out of my system and I'm done drying out. Depression is lurking just around the corner, but so far has been kept at bay.

Suffering is ugly, and most of us suffer badly. But I took a cue from St. Gemma not to waste the opportunity to suffer for a soul--or in this case, a stranger whose marriage is on the rocks. I felt impotent to help in any kind of tangible way, so I told him I would offer up the suffering of withdrawal for the sake of his marriage. I also know it is not just willpower alone; I begged Our Lady to help me be free of this addiction, and that I would suffer for it if she would free me.

There is a moving scene in Entertaining Angels (1996), the story of Dorothy Day when Dorothy is thrown in jail for civil disobedience and is in the cell with another woman who appears to be going through withdrawal from drugs. She throws up on Dorothy, and Dorothy just smiles and cradles the woman's head in her lap and sings her to sleep. Jail is hard. Detox is hard. Jail and detox together is super hard, because of how cold and savage and environment it is. You're already at your lowest point, and you are suffering greatly on top of it all. To be a source of comfort and a light to someone in darkness in that moment is a great grace. This is how we should see ourselves as Christians. The Little Flower said, "I always want to see you behaving like a brave soldier who does not complain about his own suffering but takes his comrades’ wounds seriously and treats his own as nothing but scratches."

St. John Vianney said,

"On the Way of the Cross, you see, my children, only the first step is painful. Our greatest cross is the fear of crosses. . . . We have not the courage to carry our cross, and we are very much mistaken; for, whatever we do, the cross holds us tight – we cannot escape from it. What, then, have we to lose? Why not love our crosses and make use of them to take us to Heaven? But, on the contrary, most men turn their backs upon crosses, and fly before them. The more they run, the more the cross pursues them, the more it strikes and crushes them with burdens. . . . If you were wise, you would go to meet it like St. Andrew, who said, when he saw the cross prepared for him and raised up into the air, “Hail O good cross! O admirable cross! O desirable cross! Receive me into thine arms, withdraw me from among men, and restore me to my Master, who redeemed me through thee.”

Listen attentively to this, my children: He who goes to meet the cross, goes in the opposite direction to crosses; he meets them, perhaps, but he is pleased to meet them; he loves them; he carries them courageously. They unite him to Our Lord; they purify him; they detach him from this world; they remove all obstacles from his heart; they help him to pass through life, as a bridge helps us to pass over water. . . . Look at the saints; when they were not persecuted, they persecuted themselves."

Sorry this post leaves a lot to be desired. I feel like I am in a fog. Praise God for the gift and grace of suffering. Thank you Jesus.