I chose to close the service with “Right By My Side.” It was a song I wrote in deep despair, when I felt alone and abandoned.  I had used up all my plans and safety nets, and found I was not enough.  Though in my darkness, I was reminded that I was not alone. God was with me in my pain. Right by my side.

This pain is more than I can bear
Its tearing me apart

I’m close to caving in
I try to push away the fear
to keep appearances
But I can’t hold it back
To fight away the tears

I pray this night will fade to grey
But I can’t see the dawn
And my strength is running out

But You’re here with me
You’re here with me
Right by my side

This sorrow’s more than I can take
My heart’s been ripped apart
I’m close to blowing up

I’ve used up my ability
My plans and safety nets
and found I’m not enough

Sometimes I can’t tell what I feel
where I really stand
what I truly believe

These times have brought me to my knees
though they are cut and sore
it’s where I need to be

I had hoped my song would connect with those hurting in our community, but I had no idea how powerful the moment would be. I felt a connection as I played the song, though it wasn’t until after each service, when I was able to talk with and listen to people’s stories, that my whole heart engaged. One woman shared with me that this was her first Mother’s Day without her mom. Through her tears she expressed how this was the first moment since here mother’s death she felt her loneliness lift. It was also the first moment she had opened up to someone in our church about her struggle and loss. I spoke with several mother’s who had lost children, who were ready to finally release the bitterness they held towards God. Others shared for the first time heart wrenching stories of divorce, job loss, drug use, and abuse. They were so thankful I took the moment to recognize those that were hurting and share the hope that though God may not take away our pain, he is with us every step. One older man thanked me for giving his pain a voice. He had struggled for so long to let it out, to find the words. He felt as if I had shared his story from the stage. It was one of the most powerful and humbling moments I have experienced in ministry.

So why was this moment so special? Why were people so grateful for that moment of honesty and transparency? Was is because I was going above and beyond or because its something we normally don’t do very well?

All this pain, sitting in our auditorium, hiding behind plastic smiles and designer clothes. All the despair stuffed away and covered up every Sunday with the usual greetings and rhetoric. The stuff we never see, or the stuff we choose to ignore. We easily voice the joy and share the good stuff in our lives, but why do we hide the rest? If our churches are the body of Christ, why are we as members and leaders slow to open up? What are we scared of? We need to ditch the masks, performances, and cliches and get down an dirty. One of the first elements of authentic community is transparency.

I’m not saying that every community and church ignores pain at all…It just seems that some of us are afraid to get into it in our corporate settings…maybe it takes too much time. maybe it doesn’t fit within our service times. Maybe we’re afraid that if we open up the all the stuff crammed inside, we may not be able to cap it.  Maybe we’re afraid of judgment and ridicule. There are many great small/support  groups and recovery programs, but I think we need to take more time to address the hurt in our big rooms, and allow God to meet us where we are at instead of faking it.

So how do we do voice the pain? How do we as a community better embrace the hurting? How do we as people let our walls down? How do we open up? I want to know your thoughts. Those of you doing it, what is working? Those of us that aren’t, what is holding us back?