The Pain Closet

by Jessica Martin-Weber

Sunday morning you walk into church, receive a warm welcome from the greeter opening the door, she hands you a bulletin and you make your way towards the worship center. Just as you’re about to step through the doors another greeter steps up and with another warm and friendly smile puts his arm around you and steers you away from the worship center entrance. You allow him to guide you to a small door wedged between the maintenance closet and the door to the stairs that leads to the balcony. There a small sign whispers “Pain Closet.” The greeter, who has been warmly chatting to you about last nights game on TV lowers his voice and tells you that you need to stop there before entering the worship center. “You don’t want to take anything into worship that will distract you from God now do you?” He pats you on the back with a knowing smile and walks away. You’re a bit surprised you pain was so obvious, you thought you had hidden it well but deep down you know that you want somebody to know it’s there so you’ve gotten sloppy in covering it up. When you open the door to the pain closet directions posted on the inside of the door tell you to pick up two stickers with the same number, apply one to your pain and either fold it and leave it on a shelf or hang it on the rack. The second number goes with you so you can claim your pain following the service. Swallowing your surprise at how many pains are already in there, you dutifully put your pain away after a longing look and fighting the desire to take that pain with you, you return to the worship center for an hour filled of uplifting music, uplifting message, uplifting hand shakes, uplifting fellowship, hoping to leave uplifted. But not before stopping to claim your secret pain that would have gotten in the way. With your pain hidden securely under your coat you leave feeling anything but uplifted since nobody knows your pain and you wonder if sticking it in a closet during worship means God somehow missed that too.