When Your Spouse Suffers from Chronic Pain or Illness, Part Two
Nate Brooks
This article is the second of a two-part series about being married to someone who suffers from chronic pain or illness. Part one highlighted the significant stress and difficulty that this form of suffering brings into a marriage, with 75% of marriages ending in divorce. This statistic should alarm us but not terrify us, as the Lord helps strengthen those who care for their suffering spouses. This article picks up where the last one left off, looking at points 4-7 of how to endure in love as the spouse of one who suffers from chronic pain or illness.
4. You Will Probably Wrestle with God in Ways You Never Have Before
During the Civil War, the road behind new units marching toward the front was often littered with discarded items that got tossed out from overloaded packs after miles and miles of marching. What seemed essential at the outset became far less valuable once the realities of war set in. In the same way, we often think that our theological knowledge explains suffering in such a way that our experience of it will be joyful. Suffering happens that we may be sanctified. Suffering demonstrates God’s glory. Suffering is us walking the path that Jesus walked.
All these truths are entirely essential. Without them, we would be cast adrift in the swelling sea. But the truths that seemed so intellectually satisfying before pain wrapped its way around your heart don’t usually do for us what we expect them to do. These truths are the surgeon that saves our life, but they are not morphine. Diane Langberg speaks well about the churning of soul that most often accompanies chronic pain and illness, “Suffering rarely makes sense. Suffering is unreasonable. It is irrational. Still, we work very hard to make sense out of it. I often think that the ability to explain suffering is the clearest indicator of never having suffered.”[1] Deep suffering stirs up deep questions before the face of the God whose power is limitless and who left a record of healing many during His time on earth, yet leaves you and your spouse in the mire of what has become your life.
5. You’ll Probably Have the Same Conversation with Your Spouse Over and Over
The quotation from Diane Langberg above had an important line that’s easily overlooked–“Still, we work very hard to make sense out of it.” God has created us to be meaning-making creatures. We were built for a world of cause and effect, for perfect harmony. So what happens when that design meets the chaos of brokenness that sin produced in the world? Our minds and hearts churn, revisiting the same information and the same feelings over and over again as we try to process it in such a way that fits within our worldview. We tend to do this in the “normal” parts of life–returning to the movie of a great public embarrassment, a traffic accident that was our fault, a financial mistake–over and over again.
These cyclical conversations are essential for your spouse’s working through what has happened. Sometimes these conversations come from a very natural fear–Do you think I’ll get better? Sometimes they come from a very natural despair–I don’t think I can keep doing this. Sometimes they come from a very natural sense of guilt–Our lives are ruined because of me. Sometimes they come from a very natural sense of loneliness–Does God see me? Does God care?
Your spouse needs your patience, your love, your kind reminders. You’ll be tempted to roll your eyes and say, “Not this one again!” But God can meet you in your own self-centeredness and empower you when you’ve exceeded your own natural capacity to love and act tenderly.
6. You Cannot Be Everything for Your Spouse
Your spouse’s chronic illness shines a powerful spotlight on something we know deep in our bones. We are ultimately insufficient to care for our spouse in such a way that sets their world aright. The dull ache of helplessness throbs when the person you love struggles and your own reach is limited.
Part of loving your spouse well is being able to acknowledge and rest in your own limitations. Try as you might, you cannot know what it’s like to wake every morning into a shattered body. You cannot follow them into the deepest part of their hearts when they retreat beyond your reach into pain, despair, sorrow, and anger. You’re stuck in the lobby, waiting and praying.
The good news is that there are others behind the doors you cannot enter. You may not be able to experience the quiet connection with your spouse that passes between fellow sufferers of chronic pain: “Oh, you too?” But there are others who can. Your spouse may be significantly helped by Christ-centered, compassionate support groups full of others who suffer similarly to how they do. A sermon may touch their heart in a way that you can’t. The rustle of falling leaves outside a window may spark hope in ways your words cannot. All of these things are your allies as you seek to care for your spouse.
Make no mistake, your calling is to do all that you can, especially in those areas that nobody else can. Spouse and friend are different categories. Your spouse needs to hear that you will not leave, that you love them, that you hurt as they hurt. But that must be balanced in your own heart with the knowledge that you cannot stem the flow of tears. You grab the tissues and speak God’s words of comfort. But you can heal neither body nor soul.
7. Your Spouse Will Teach You Things You Need to Know
We live in a cultural environment that values strength, dynamism, and productivity. Chronic pain and illness sap these three cultural virtues, often replacing them with weakness, exhaustion, and inability. In the rush of pouring out of yourself, it’s easy to begin to absorb these cultural values and view your spouse as being diminished. They certainly are diminished in some ways, but in other ways, they have likely become stronger than you are.
Living with an individual suffering from chronic illness and pain is God’s masterclass in teaching your heart. Your spouse wrestles with God in ways that you can learn from. Their faith may appear to shake at points, but it is often strong, and only appears wavering because of the heavy weight that bears down upon it. The straggler has much to teach the fleet of foot, and the blind man has much to teach the sighted. Your spouse will experience things in their relationship with God, will capture a sight of Him in His Word, will explore the corridors of giving of themselves for others, knowing there is going to be a cost to pay in their body tomorrow. If diamonds are formed by heat, pressure, and time, you’re living with a diamond in the making. Slow down, watch, and learn from God’s gift to you.
Conclusion
These seven points work very poorly as boxes on a checklist. They aren’t things to accomplish and tick off one by one. Neither are they a series of levels where one ascends from one rank to the next. Rather, they are variations on the central question, “What is love?” Love is patient and kind. It does not boast and is not self-seeking. It keeps no record of wrongs. It always hopes, always protects. It never fails. Entering into the world of chronic pain and illness carves out a different path for how those essential elements of love are expressed within your marriage. But it is an honor to serve your spouse as they walk through the valley of the shadow of death. God is with you both, and He will sustain you.
Questions for Reflection
What are you wrestling about with God?
What has He shown you in the midst of these struggles?
What do you think your spouse can teach you about faith?
[1] Diane Langberg, Twitter, 11/18/2021.