Well, this is one of the most inspiring things I’ve read in a long time—maybe ever. Jon Morrow, an editor at the crazy-popular site Copyblogger, tells the story of how he left his job after getting in a catastrophic car accident, learned to make a ton of money doing something he loves, and now lives a resort lifestyle on a beach in Mexico (he notes watching dolphins jumping in the ocean as he drafted the post). And then, toward the end of the post, he says, Oh, by the way, I can’t move from the neck down because I have the fatal disease Spinal Muscular Atrophy.
Morrow has another must-read post about the moment his mother got the devastating diagnosis, the doctor suggesting that her son probably wouldn’t live past age two, and her subsequent determination to give him the best life possible. Not only has Morrow lived longer than anyone expected, but he’s gone on to be so successful that he’s able to support himself, both of his parents and a staff of nurses at his sweet pad in Mexico.
One of the things that struck me about him and his amazing mother is their hopefulness. In the face of a devastating medical diagnosis, they refused to let fear hold them back—in particular, they seem to have rejected a fear of suffering.
This is no easy thing to do. It seems to be deeply ingrained in human nature to feel more certain about potential suffering than potential blessings. We tend to feel absolutely confident that the things we worry about will come to pass, but see the things we hope for as unlikely possibilities. I noticed this phenomenon in myself just last night: I was up and down with the baby all night, and after about the fourth time I woke up I came to the conclusion that today was going to be a horrible day. I used my SESP (Suffering Extrasensory Perception) to know with certainty that I would be too tired to deal with anything, the house would get trashed, the kids’ behavior would be terrible, and we’d all be miserable. It briefly occurred to me that maybe some good things could happen as well, but I quickly dismissed those thoughts as naive fantasies. As it’s turned out, the day is not that bad. Some of the bad things I predicted have happened, but so have dozens of little blessings that I hadn’t counted on.
This sense that we have Suffering ESP that allows us to divine exactly how horrible the future is going to be might not be a big deal in the little struggles of daily life, but it gets dangerous when we allow it to guide our major life decisions—especially here in the modern world, where suffering is seen as the worst evil. I keep thinking of this article by a mother who chronicles her heartbreaking decision to abort her son who was diagnosed with spina bifida. The choice was fueled largely by the vivid image she’d conjured up about just how terrible his life would be:
I pictured him watching from the sofa, frustrated and immobile, as his sisters turned cartwheels and somersaults in the living room. I envisaged trips to the park, where he would sit on the sidelines as other children clambered over climbing frames and kicked footballs ... I tried to shake away the image I conjured in my head of a little boy, lonely and friendless, robbed of the most basic human functions. The prospect of watching a child I’d love just as much as his sisters suffer in this way made me howl. I hugged my stomach, as if I could in some way shield him from the misery that lay ahead. [...]
When my older sister, Marie, a nurse who has cared for sick children, told me I should spare us all the suffering and have a termination, I was still shocked. And angry ... Yet when I look back now, I am grateful for my sister’s words. They gave me permission, somehow, to consider termination.
She’s not alone in her thinking. People I know who’ve received poor prenatal diagnoses unanimously report pressure to end their pregnancies, largely based on their doctors’ sense of certainty about the suffering that awaits them. A friend whose son was diagnosed with spina bifida in the womb says her obstetrician encouraged her no fewer than 10 times to have an abortion, assuring her of just how difficult both her and her son’s lives would be as if he were seeing it in a crystal ball. Things have been hard since his birth, in some ways harder than she had imagined; but she could have never imagined the joy and love that her smart, cheerful little son would bring into her life and into the lives of everyone he meets. This family who recently shared their story of receiving a devastating prenatal diagnosis reported a similar experience: Their daughter’s presence in their lives is more of a blessing than they could have imagined when they first received the news about her condition.
Our unspoken belief in Suffering ESP combined with our culture’s great fear of suffering not only holds us back in the little moments of daily life, but it has undoubtedly been responsible for countless abortions, suicides, and cases of euthanasia. It makes us fear suffering more than we need to, and tempts us to choose even death to avoid it. Our society would do well to take a cue from Jon Morrow and his amazing mother, and think more about the potential for good than the potential for misery. Anyone who heard of Morrow’s diagnosis when he was a young child would surely have been tempted to imagine a future for him filled with non-stop difficulty and little joy; yet the way his life has actually turned out is a triumphant testimony to the wonderful things that can happen when we make decisions based on hope instead of fear.
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What a lovely article.
I have to tell you that when I read the testimony of the woman who aborted her son I grew angry because I believed that she was more interested in preventing her own suffering than her sons. I guess I need to be reminded I don’t have “Human Heart Clairvoyance”.
Very true. However, there is another side of the coin: I often fear something SO MUCH that it isn’t nearly as awful as I imagined, and I am pleasantly surprised. One of the nice parts about being a pessimist is that you are rarely disappointed, but if you expect the worst all the time, you won’t take the best for granted! :)
Thank you I needed to hear this today! n_n
When diagnosed w/ MS, my first neurologist pressured my dh to get sterilized. In the midst of the fear of the future (much more debilitating than MS, I assure you), we turned to our parish priest who assured us of God’ providence and protection. We turned to God and put our future in His hands and relied on NFP. My second neurologist agreed, he reminded me not to let my MS determine my life as there are no guarantees anywhere for anyone.
Well, in the end, we have 11 children (which is not because any failures w/ NFP but our own decisions). My current neurologist laughingly jokes that my MS was so mild for so long because of my ‘constant state of pregnancy’ (his words!). He is convinced (tho’ w/ little medical proof) that the protections a pregnant woman’s body goes through to help the baby grow and thrive have kept me thriving as well.
Now, in my perimenopause years I am experiencing my first real difficult symptoms which are made much easier w/ the joy, love, laughter and, yes, the help of the family I wouldn’t have had if I had listened to my first doctor.
We laugh at the thought of relying on the predictions of palm readers, tarot cards and crystal balls but are really good at convincing ourselves of how bad it all will be - we are rarely right - just like those palm readers.
I know the mystery of suffering is a state of transcendent communication between the believer sufferer and God. It is not a rational or sensual dialogue but similar to an out of body experience. The Mystery occurs at a stage where one is either half dead or dead and it’s told like a dream experience on waking. The endurance of suffering from persecutions in the name of God could be materialized in the physical, but it certainly strengthens one’s faith like consistent with principles through trials and tribulation. The phoenix and the gold purified in fire are analogies of the transformation, and some who have had revelations have life changing experience. Pope Benedict XVI had a piece on suffering.
I have spina bifida, I have three beautiful children and a PhD. I could cry when I hear some of these stories. People just get told the wrong thing about life with this little glitch.
“The endurance of suffering from persecutions in the name of God could be materialized in the physical, but it certainly strengthens one’s faith like consistent with principles through trials and tribulation. The phoenix and the gold purified in fire are analogies of the transformation, and some who have had revelations have life changing experience. Pope Benedict XVI had a piece on suffering.”
Weather you choose to have a child with a congenital problem or not, I don’t understand why you Catholics revere suffering as a divine gift and special communication with god. Please explain this to me.
@Scot: The Catholic teaching on suffering actually provides meaning and purpose to suffering, rather than simply understanding it as something awful to be endured. Without knowing your religious beliefs, it’s hard to speak in a way that may make sense, but I’ll give you the basic understanding (as I know it): As Catholic Christians, we believe that the passion and death of Jesus has purchased everlasting redemption, once and for all, for all peoples of every age. However, the ability to allow suffering to be offered up for the sake of another is not limited only to Christ (though certainly none of us can accomplish what He accomplished); we can all partake in such sacrifice so that good may come of it. Hence the phrase, “Offer it up!” that one may hear in Catholic circles (meaning, one can “offer up” one’s suffering for the sake of another).—Not that we should always be looking for ways to suffer, either, but certainly suffering is part and parcel to the human experience (no one ever got through life without some form of suffering).
@ RMMT:
It just seems to me that Catholics not only “accept” suffering, they welcome suffering as a “special” gift from God. I though God wanted us to be prosperous, fruitful, and happy. I don’t advocate abortions, but I don’t see how one can be grateful for tragedy.
Scot: We know that we will not avoid suffering, and we do not like masochists actively seek suffering. Part of the point is that Catholics, while we prudently avoid suffering like anyone else, do not make suffering the summum malum, or greatest evil. Our summum malum is not suffering but sin, which is doing the opposite of God’s will. We—- ideally—- live lives specifically doing exactly what we believe God wants us to do through a process of discernment, though discerning what God wants is of course a lot easier than actually doing it.
So tragedy is good if it is “God’s will”? Does God make tragedy a good thing? Is that what He does to make people “better”?
—
I’m not just in this conversation for myself—I’m looking for answers because I have a friend who has been sending me emails from college. He is reading posts by PZ Meyers and has recently joined an atheist forum. He says it is to argue with them, but he is telling me they make some good points.
“It makes us fear suffering more than we need to”
How does someone decide how much to “fear” suffering? Why do you get to decide how someone else should feel about suffering?
I wonder why you choose “wonderful” anecdotes and ignore “horrible” anecdotes. You don’t have a prejudice or an agenda, do you?
Mike: At least give us the benefit of good faith. We are not warped oligarchs who at the end of the day cackling at how gullible those dupes are. What makes this wonderful is not what happened, which is of course not a thing we would wish on anyone, but how he deals with it.
Scot: God does not will bad things but allows them for a few reasons: First, To interfere would usually end in undermining someone’s free will. In the cases of random acts of genetics where will is not involved, this of course does not apply. Second, suffering is indeed the means by which we are sanctified. You’re better off reading The Problem of Pain for a good treatment of this.
Atheists do make some good points, and theodicy is of course a problem. If he really wants to know atheism, he is far better off reading Nietzsche and Sartre than most of this new crowd, though.
@ Scot
You might also bring up points about how we willingly endure various types of pain/ absences of pleasure for less religious purposes without batting an eye. Take medical treatment and surgery, for instance. Look up examples of people living with the serious and life threatening condition of anhidrosis, who cannot sense physical pain.
It turns out, pain is incredibly useful. In some cases, for instance physical pain in exercise, rehabilitative therapies, and surgery, overcoming pain makes us stronger. It helps us sense when we are doing something dangerous. It reminds us to be careful and aware of life’s preciousness. I suspect we can apply many of these ideas to emotional and spiritual pain as well. God desires us to become perfect; that ain’t a walk in the park in any philosophical system. American culture, for instance, which is one of the most leisure-filled pursuing-of-happiness cultures in the world, seems to be—ta-dah!—suffering for it with severe health problems, mental and physical.
Additionally, I find the most emotionally compelling complaints against a loving God revolve around the problem of physical and debilitating pain, as well as death. “Why did God let him die?” and “Why do we have to suffer?” sorts of appeals. First, to imagine a world without death and pain would also require a world without the physics and chemistry of our own. Bodies aren’t terribly helpful in this, either. We are limited, mortal creatures in these bodies and there is little scientific way around this. And, as it turns out, it’s not a zero-sum gain: you can have pain and pleasure simultaneously. Some might argue that pleasure would have to be destroyed/ severely limited if we entirely eliminated pain. (Think of all those robot sci-fi plots where AI decide to kill the humans before they can hurt themselves or experience pain—this is exactly the mentality of the culture of death.)
Second, the major issue I have always found useful to raise is that this mindset presumes pleasure is the highest good and pain the greatest evil, whereas from the Christian perspective these are simply aspects of life which God uses in his plan for us. The fact that the Christian faith finds not only an explanation for pain, but a redemptive purpose, makes Christianity far more compelling in my opinion than faiths that only lead their followers to flee pain. For that is impossible, given the biological (if not psychological) nature of humankind.
@ Laurie:
I’m not saying pain is not important for survival, or even for healing and self-improvement. I just learned a friend of a friend of mine died in Hurricane Irene—her car was washed away by a flooding creek. I know the pain of grief expresses the love for a person lost. It just seems so random—did God kill her so her friends/family would grieve? It makes no sense.
Also, I’m still confused—some people who post here say God does miracles, which would be a violation of the laws of physics. Yet you say that pain and pleasure could be due to physics, which is a materialist stand. Did God create physics and is a byproduct of physics excessive pain and excessive pleasure? Is that why we need God’s grace?
@Scot: God once showed me that suffering here, on earth, IS a gift. It is a gift to be able to atone for sins, either your own or someone else’s, this little bit here and now rather than to pay in eternity what was your actual due. As all men sin, all men must suffer. Suffering is the cross by which we grow in our compassion, are strengthened for the tough journey required to reach heaven, and join ourselves to Christ more fully. The cross is the ONLY route to heaven, as it is the only bridge strong enough to bear the weight of humanity’s sins and the only bridge long enough to bridge the gap between heaven and earth.
I don’t see how she could have sinned. She was 23, in college, and had her life ahead. I don’t think any “sin” she had or did justifies her dying so randomly. She shouldn’t have died for others’ sins, especially since she did not know it was coming and could not give confession before she died. She was a good person.
Scot,
First, I’m so sorry to hear about your friend. My sympathies to you and her family.
There are so many dimensions to the mystery of suffering, and I worry that even the most well-informed and -intentioned answers in a combox would sound… inadequate, at best, when grief is still fresh. Ultimately, suffering and evil are a mystery that is better expressed and explored in art than in syllogism.
John Paul 2, who was no stranger to personal suffering, wrote an Apostolic Letter dedicated to the question, Salvifici Doloris.
In the Catholic world view…
—we think of this world, including suffering, as a chapter in a bigger story.
—When God created the world (and PLEASE let’s not go off on any evolution bunny trails; most Catholics are perfectly fine with describing the way Creation looks to us as evolution), He didn’t create evil. Evil was ultimately introduced by the sin of Adam. For all we know, there might not have been earthquakes or hurricanes or cancer in a world where Adam didn’t sin. Alas, we have no unfallen universe to serve as a control.
—But Adam did sin, and so here we are. God permits free will, which is why he doesn’t smite us if we so much as think about visiting Facebook on company time, and unfortunately that means dealing with the consequences of Adam’s sins, our ancestors’ sins, our own sins, and of a fallen creation.
—Instead of sending us a syllogism about how to respond to evil, God sent us Himself, Incarnate. When we look at the life of Jesus, we see that He didn’t approve of evil. He felt pity, He wept, He healed and fed (and exhorted His followers to care for the suffering.) God doesn’t “like” suffering, He hates it.
—So why doesn’t God just stop it? When Jesus was condemned to death, he could have smote Pilate and everyone else involved and walked away a free man. Instead he accepted suffering, all the way to death. He lost something good - His life- but was able to turn it into an opportunity for an even greater good when He was raised from the dead on the third day. He has triumphed over suffering and death, they do not have the last word. That doesn’t make his Passion any less real.
—So yeah, it’s horrible that your friend (and at least 39 other people) died. It’s awful that her family and friends are left behind to grieve. And there’s no easy “Oh, God did X so Y would happen!! :) !!” answer.
—But there is an answer in that God sees and shares your suffering and your friends’ suffering. Jesus isn’t “up in the sky” watching us, He has literally suffered as we do. We can trust Jesus to take our suffering seriously. We can trust that, as tragically short as your friend’s life was, it is the first chapter of her eternal life. We can offer God our suffering - unite it with His - to be turned into an opportunity for a different, greater purpose.
I hope this is helpful. Will pray for you, your friend, and your family.
I think the point of the article can be extended beyond suffering to other related issues. I know that I have anticipated ugly confrontations, imagining what the other person would say and planning my responses, to the extent that I would become genuinely angry—yet in almost every case, the confrontation never actually materialized! At some point, the foolish speculation became sinful as well.
Suffering is a mystery. That is, no matter how many things we may say in an attempt to understand it, complete understanding will always be beyond our grasp.
@ replies:
I am a friend of a friend, so I’m a step away from the tragedy. I do understand that the family is taking it very badly—-her sister is obsessing about how awful it must have been for her as the water was filling and she could not get out of her car. I don’t think it is a good idea to tell them it is all part of “God’s Plan.” or that it is a “mystery”. It seems like too much suffering to account for anything good coming out of this. I can’t think of anything to say that would be of help.
I’ve been looking at other articles on the ncregister.com site and I am surprised at the contempt that is expressed to atheist and other groups. This is not a place to find out how to comfort grieving people. I don’t think I’ll visit any more. This is one of more hate-filled sites I’ve ever visited.
Good bye.
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