The Wonderful Land of Affliction

Pain arrived like an unwelcome guest that settles in, then decides never to leave. (Barbara Coleman)

Moving to the Land of Affliction

I remember the day I packed my bags to move to the Land of Affliction. To tell you the truth, having lived in the Land of Ease for 35 years, I took most things for granted. I never really appreciated that I could just pick up and leave the house, going wherever my little heart desired. My life up to that point had been effortless, pretty simple, with few difficulties.  Then the pain arrived like an unwelcome guest that settles in, then decides never to leave. It became increasingly difficult to function like others in the Land of Ease, so it was appointed that I should head to the Land of Affliction.

As I approached the gate, I saw a quote engraved in the stone above the entry: Those who suffer are deemed worthy by the King. I must confess that I was terribly scared at the beginning of this journey. This was a whole new world for me, but I did have some measure of hope when I saw that sign. I was deemed worthy by the King. The King? I was so glad to be reminded that the King lives here (in the Land of Affliction) and that I am His daughter.

I didn’t sleep well the first night. Really, who am I kidding? No one ever sleeps well here. In the Land of Ease, sleep came so easily. I would just lie down at night, and very soon, it would be morning. Effortless. However, in this new land, sleep was difficult for everyone. All through the night, you might see lights turned on at various times in various rooms, folks trying to cope with their ailments the best they could. It doesn’t take long to realize that afflictions don’t sleep even though you might want to.

INVISIBLE ILLNESS

The following day, I took a walk around the town. I saw so many people with obvious physical impairments. The thought struck me, “Perhaps I don’t belong here. The King made a mistake. Maybe I am just a temporary guest.” Then I saw people who looked perfectly fine and quite normal—like me. I realized we were the folks with invisible illnesses. Our afflictions (things like chronic pain, emotional distress, mental brokenness) cannot be seen with the eye.

However, as I got to know people better, I realized it didn’t matter whether your ailment was visible or not. We all shared the same thing—a sense of loneliness. All of us were lonely for our old lives. We were far from those ordinary daily routines we’d known. We had experienced enormous loss. Many of us had lost our jobs, lost our energy, lost touch with friends, lost the ability to care for ourselves, and even lost the capacity to think clearly.

OVERWHELMED AND CONFUSED

It was overwhelming and confusing at first. Growing up, I had always thought afflictions were for the elderly, but looking around the Land of Affliction, I saw people of all ages and backgrounds. You can imagine my surprise when I saw so many children (some very small) with various ailments. I found it interesting that they always had their parents with them. I finally realized: “Of course, as a parent, you bear your child’s affliction as heavily as if it were your own.” So, they lived here with their children, here in the Land of Affliction.

As the days passed, the permanent residents welcomed me warmly. I felt an immediate sense of deep care and understanding from each of them. It was reassuring to realize I didn’t have to explain myself. They just knew I was suffering, and they comforted me. My absolute favorite times were when they would share Words of Wisdom from the King—nothing better.

CHANGES

If you were to visit the Land of Affliction for a day, I think the first thing you would notice is the pace. Everything moves much slower here. Many of us are using all our energy just to figure out how to make it through the day. Over time, I have become frustratingly aware of my weaknesses.  It is humbling when you simply cannot do what you used to do. However, the good news is that any time I accomplish anything now, I know I am aided by divine strength—I am strengthened by the King. This is acceptable service.

The next thing you might notice is that I don’t look anything like I did in the Land of Ease. The changes aren’t just physical. I am different on the inside. There seems to be less of the old me as if I am fading. Gone are the days when I was into everyone else’s business. Gone is the energy to accomplish grand feats to please others. It is as if I have been emptied so I could be filled—unexpectedly filled with an abundance of quiet and peace. This is a good thing.

I have reviewed what I have written to you, dear reader, and I can see that you might fear coming here to live someday. That was never my intention, which was the opposite. Put aside those fears. If you are called, you must come. I admit that adapting to this new home is a process; sometimes, you must wade through resentment and bitterness, but you will also be blessed more than I can tell you in this short note. You may think those of us living here should be pitied. You would be wrong. We have something very special that none of us enjoyed in the Land of Ease.

THE KING IS IN THE WONDERFUL LAND OF AFFLICTION

Every day, we have the luxury of time to walk and talk with the King. Yes, in this Land, He is remarkably close to us. Our quiet lives allow for times of sweet fellowship—and we develop a constant dependence on the Servant King. He was a Man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief Himself; thus, He is the most amazing comforter you could ever want. He makes His home here with us. We all know that when you live in the Land of Affliction, you live close to the King. That is what makes it so wonderful—The Wonderful Land of Affliction!

As time passed, I realized what the King (the Lord) had known all along. I am never going back to the Land of Ease. This is home now. He ordained that I should dwell here. I truly believe that it is the best thing for me now.

LIVING A LIFE OF PAIN CHANGED ME

Living a life of pain changed me as nothing else could. I have become desperate for the Shepherd King—and here He draws me close and walks next to me every day. It’s such a good thing. You know, there are some days that I think I can see His home from here. He has said He is even making a special room for me there. How great is that?! I thought recently that if I lose my battle with this disease and the time comes for my final move, I really won’t have far to go. I live that close!

There is so much more to say, dear one, but I am weary now, and my closest friend, Pain, is demanding my attention. You might need to know that writing is NOT one of my natural gifts. I avoid it whenever possible. However, the King has laid it on my heart today to tell you my story, and I am so grateful you have taken the time to hear it.

Praying blessings on you wherever you live… 

Lead image “Harvest” by Artist Barbara Coleman.