Don't waste the pain

There is no such thing as a free lunch.

Anyone with any measure of years behind them understands this, in spite of constant assertions to the contrary.

Also, those with any measure of years behind them understand that the sign "free puppy" annihilates all truth in advertising laws.

On the surface, Sassy appeared to be the exception to the rule. A purebred English springer spaniel, she was a beauty, albeit the obvious runt of the litter. No one told her she was the runt, and from the day Patrick brought her home until she went to live with my best friend in Greeley, Colo., she lived up to her name.

"Really, Mom," Patrick pleaded on that long ago spring day, "she's free!"Patrick had experienced some hard disappointments that year. I could at least give him this, I thought, accepting the "free puppy." She really was free, I discovered, until the day she leapt off the couch and broke a leg. The subsequent surgery cost easily as much, if not more, than she would have brought on pedigree alone. I'm supposing that she must have had some kind of invisible genetic defect, eliminating her pedigree value.

Pedigree, it turns out, isn't everything. In fact, with Sassy, pedigree was nothing. Puppies are, by nature, exuberant. Sassy took exuberance to new levels every day. Once she discovered the joys of playing fetch with a yellow tennis ball, she would play for hours, literally exhausting herself. When we mowed the grass, she was right in front of us, having fetched the tennis ball from its hiding place, then laying it directly in the path of the mower, ready and waiting to play.

Joanie's son, Kellen, who had already suffered extraordinary losses in his few years, suffered yet another loss when Amy, his golden retriever, unexpectedly died. God, who sees the end from the beginning of all things, had arranged things so that Sassy's need for a new home coincided with Kellen's need of a new friend. And years of exuberant companionship were the result. Among other things, Sassy gifted Kellen with a generous litter of nine puppies, two of which still occupy his world.

But puppies grow up. And dogs grow old. And sometimes, in growing old, they become very sick. Such was the case with Sassy. Still exuberant in spirit, her small body began to fail her as she succumbed to the ravages of cancer. True to her promises to provide for Sassy, Joanie knew what was needful and watched carefully for the inevitable day to arrive, the day when Sassy's suffering exceeded her capacity for joyful living.

Human suffering comes in all shapes and sizes. Stubbed toes remind us of a mother's wisdom when she admonishes us to wear shoes and socks. Seared fingers quickly teach us to give heed to the cry, "Don't touch! Hot!" A hangover is the direct result of overindulgence, cause and effect clearly demonstrated. Suffering can be an excellent teacher indeed.

However, not all suffering is the result of cause and effect. There are times of suffering that are altogether unearned. A desperately sick child. Catastrophic, life-threatening illnesses, with no correlative cause, afflict many. Hearts, made to love, find their love spurned, and lie broken in the long watches of the night wondering why they are so unlovable. Widows mourn. Fathers bury sons. What life lessons are to be found in these lessons of suffering?

Only One knows. And he is the only One able to answer. One thing I do know, today, one answer is enough. It was demonstrated "on a hill faraway, on an old rugged cross."

"When he had received the drink, Jesus said, 'It is finished.' With that he bowed his head and gave up his spirit."

No one can claim to have suffered more than this sinless man. No cancer patient, no accident victim, no unrequited lover, no one. And we know that his suffering was for our gain. It was not without purpose (unless we choose to make it so). His suffering served to save us from a fate worse than death, a level of suffering that would never end, an eternity of torment.

A former pastor shared years ago, after visiting with a parishioner who was dying of cancer, how impressed he was to her reply to his question, "How can I pray for you?"

"Pray that I do not waste the pain," she responded. May that be our prayer as well -- that our suffering will accomplish God's will in our life or in the lives of those who bear witness to our pain.

"But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed." Isaiah 53:5 (NIV)

Things you won't see in heaven: Medicine chests