Just another pain in the neck

For some reason, the other week I thought of my maternal grandfather, after whom I was named.
He had a farm up in the hills of Pennsylvania, and when I would visit, my cousins and I would get together and make fun of old grandpa. I didn’t understand at the time, but I’m beginning to understand now.
Grandpa had more pain in every part of his body than anybody I knew. Every time he got up to walk, his knees would creak. He had pain in his hips, in his back, and every part of his body had some pain. He limped as he walked.
My cousins and I thought it was hilarious because we didn’t know about this thing called pain. For the most part, we thought he was acting and trying to make us laugh.
If that was his objective, he was very successful. We were very careful to laugh only behind his back out of due respect. After all, he was our grandfather.
Now that he’s gone and it’s been over 50 years since he died, I can’t help but think of his pain and how he handled it day after day. Thinking back, I should’ve paid attention to how he handled that pain, but at the time, I could not associate his pain with me.
I did not know very much about pain. I didn’t have too much pain as a young person. I had what was called a “boo-boo”, which was hardly a pain. And I must say, a lot of my “boo-boos” were manufactured. The reason was that the medicine for a “boo-boo” was ice cream. The serious “boo-boos” required chocolate ice cream.
Whenever I was hungry for ice cream, I would make up some “boo-boo,” and my mother always gave me the medicine. That’s why I always thought grandpa was manufacturing his pain. My only problem was that I never could figure out what his medicine was for that pain.
It wasn’t until recently that I began to appreciate grandpa’s pain. It started a few years ago when I had a heart attack. That was just the beginning.
I’m at the point now that when I wake up in the morning, I make a bet on which pain will be first that day. My body must’ve been listening to me because whatever pain I chose, it was always something other than that.
Actually, I’m the kind of person who does not like to acknowledge my pain. Yes, as a young person, recognizing my “boo-boo” was different. That always involved ice cream. But now, when I have pain, I need to take a pill.
Every pain in my body needs a different pill, or so my doctor says. And, as you know, doctors are always right. Just ask The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage.
A few years back, I was hit with shingles on my right side. Fortunately, I saw my doctor within 24 hours and modified the results accordingly. To this day, I have pain in my right hip and my knee.
The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage told me that I need to use a cane, because a cane will make me able.
I thought about it and realized what Cain had done to Abel. I may have pain, but I’m not stupid.
When she says that, I smile at her and say, “That’s OK my dear. I got it all under control.” She looks at me and laughs, and I would rather deal with her laugh than with the pain I have.
The other week, I was in the waiting room, and as I was there, I looked around. It must’ve been my imagination, but I seemed to be the youngest person in that room.
Half a dozen of the people there were using walking canes. Most of them were hobbling to see the doctor. I’ve never seen such a crowd of older people.
Then it hit me like a pie in the face. Looking at all of these old people in that room with all kinds of pain, I realized that I fit in perfectly. That really startled me at the time.
Instead of seeing a medical doctor, I need to see a psychologist.
I was thinking, as I looked around at the people there, is there a time when this pain ends? How long do I have to put up with pain?
As I was thinking about this I remembered a verse in the Bible that addresses this.
“For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18).
As painful as my sufferings are, they are only temporary. One moment in heaven and I won’t remember any of my pain. As I trust Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour my destiny is assured.

Dr. James L. Snyder lives in Ocala, FL with the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. Telephone 1-352-216-3025, e-mail jamessnyder51@gmail.com, website www.jamessnyderministries.com.