Facing The Pain In Relationships: An Interview With Dr. Larry Crabb
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by Traci Mullins

January/February 1988

 

In the last issue of Discipleship Journal, Larry Crabb discussed the deep thirst for something more that even Christians feel. Here he focuses on how that inner longing is felt in human relationships—and how it can lead to the sin of self-protection or to a new freedom to love.

Dr. Crabb, a clinical psychologist, is the author of The Marriage Builder and two highly regarded books on biblical counseling. He is chairman of the biblical counseling department at Grace Theological Seminary in Winona Lake, Indiana.

 

Q. In your book Inside Out, you write, "An aching soul is evidence not of neurosis or spiritual immaturity but of realism." What did you mean by that?

A. I mean that we were designed to live in a world that is very different from the world we live in. We were built for a world of perfect relationships that we just don't have now. Therefore, there has to be a sense of not being fully at home, of being out of the nest, of a thirst that is not quenched fully as it will be in Heaven.

If we now have all Heaven is supposed to provide, then Heaven isn't much of a sequel. Therefore, there has to be something missing now that Heaven will finally supply.

 

Q. You've said that trying harder to "do the right things" isn't the answer to dealing with the pain inside. Why don't outward efforts help?

A. When we use "spiritual activities" to cover up pain, then that pain still generates fuel for us to find further ways to relieve it. Our motivation continues to be to escape. And it's the effort to escape pain that causes us to violate love—to move away from relationships—and to become less of the persons God wants us to be.

The opposite strategy is to embrace the pain. If I can say "yes" to it, my eagerness for Heaven increases. Paul says we groan inwardly and wait expectantly. If I can embrace the pain, then I no longer need to base my life on efforts to relieve it.

 

Q. What does it mean to embrace the pain?

A. When I have a headache, my mind goes to the aspirin bottle. When I burn my hand, my goal becomes to get some soothing ointment on it. I think that's the most normal, appropriate thing in the world to do. So when the pain gets down to the core of my being, when I feel the first hint of it, I want to find some way to move from it. To embrace it means I must recognize the way I'm moving from it, and decide instead to quietly ponder it, to admit, "Yes, that really does hurt."

I counseled a woman recently whose father had been cold and removed all her life. In the middle of her story she said, "Well, he loved me the best he could." That's moving away from the pain. What I think she ought to have said is, "Whether he loved me as best he could or not, the fact is he didn't love me well, and I hurt." That would be embracing the pain as opposed to moving away from it by saying, "Well, Dad didn't do too bad a job. He tried his best, and that's rather nice of him."

 

Q. How can we stop protecting ourselves?

A. We need to face the fact that all our efforts to build our own lives are not working. If we can face the fact that there really is this pain in our souls that none of our efforts is getting rid of, then maybe we'll abandon our self-sufficiency, our pride and rebellion—our sin.

 

Q. How can we recognize sinful patterns in our lives"?

A. Well, I think that is the hardest job of all. The Bible says, "the heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked." Since the core of sin is a commitment to independence and a desire to make life work on my own, then the one thing I want to avoid is facing what is really wrong in my soul. Since the cardinal characteristic of the fallen heart is self-deceit, it's doubtful I'll discover my core problems by waiting to see if God pops me in the head during a sermon or through the normal interactions of life.

I believe most Christians live their entire lives never availing themselves of the resources for becoming aware of their self-protective patterns.

 

Q. What are some of those resources?

A. One resource is the Spirit of God. The psalmist says, "Search me and see if there be some hurtful or harmful way in me." I think we seldom recognize the category of relational sin: How are we failing to touch somebody else deeply? We need to agonize before God, asking Him to help us see the ways in which we're really responding to other people more out of our own struggles than out of love for them.

Another resource is the Word of God. And that, to me, is one of the most misused tools available. It is supposed to be a sword, but it hardly ever draws blood. That's not because of its lack of power, but because we don't come to it for the right reasons. Anybody who comes to the Bible with the primary purpose of gaining knowledge about theology misses its message. We must come with the purpose of understanding ourselves better so we can know God better. I think we do that very, very rarely.

But I think the most under-used resource for getting in touch with our self-protective patterns is the community of God's people. I'm involved in a Sunday evening group in a local church where I think community is actually functioning. We give each other honest feedback.

 

Q. How does that work?

A. Well, for example, one evening a young man brought up how angry he had been at his wife and smiled at her nicely as if to say, "Now that's resolved." And his wife kind of smiled back and said, "Yes, honey. Now things are better."

Then somebody said, "You don't seem sincere as you say that things are better." She said, "Oh, I'm sure they are."

I said, "You're scared to say what you really think, aren't you?" "Well," she replied, "I'm not sure he could handle it."

We went on from there and found out how furious this guy got with his wife over little things. He'd say something to her like, "You know, maybe we shouldn't buy bread until tomorrow because funds are low." And then some friend would loan her $5 to buy bread. He'd be furious because she'd "overruled" him.

I told him, "My friend, you have no understanding of Christian love as a husband. You are looking at your wife as an object to be controlled, and you've never seen how your own sense of inadequacy is revealed by your having to be this marvelous protector." We talked about how he always keeps things from his wife because he's her "protector." Well, that sounds like a nice, lovely thing. But what he's really doing is making himself look good at her expense, so he can feel good about himself.

He's a good man, but he never would have seen his sin unless a group of people who loved him had confronted him about it. That truth was a shock at first. But he and his wife eventually praised God for it.

 

Q. So in light of that, how does identifying our core struggles lead to change?

A. It gives us a chance to repent. When I can face my self-protective patterns and see how I handle real fears by becoming a ruler of my wife or whatever, then I can come to the Lord and deal with that honestly. Until I see it, I can't really repent of it.

 

Q. You say that most of us constantly place pressure on other people to always understand us and come through for us. How do these kinds of expectations sabotage our relationships?

A. It all depends on what kind of relationship you want. If you want a comfortable kind of social relationship that's not too difficult and not too rich, then I don't think you have to sabotage that at all. A married couple, for example, can be amiable roommates without ever having to deal with these kinds of things.

But the Lord says in John 17, "I pray that they might be one, as You and I, Father, are one." He's talking about a level of relationship that goes way beyond getting along pleasantly and being able to share a cup of coffee in the break between Sunday school and church. He's talking about a way of dealing with our lives as they really are that ends up being mutually edifying.

But if I put pressure on you to come through for me in certain ways, to do for me what you are really incapable of consistently doing, then when you fail, that deep part of my soul from which I really could give you rich love will be hurt. I'll be angry and I'll withdraw that part of me from you and give you a shallower part of me. Then you won't feel deeply loved or deeply touched, and as a result, our relationship will go back to being shallow.

 

Q. So how are we supposed to view our relationships? Should we not expect anything consistent from anyone?

A. On, no. I think that's an overstatement. There's a difference between desiring much and demanding. I desire all kinds of things from my wife. My wife can touch my inner being in ways that no other woman can. I want that to happen, and God intends for it to happen. If it's not happening, it becomes an issue to be discussed.

But our discussion won't be productive if we're depending on one another for fulfillment at the core level of life and, as a result, we're demanding something from each other that is impossible for another human to give. If we're coming to each other in a nondemanding way, then we can deal realistically with how much we desire from each other.

 

Q. So how do we keep our desires from becoming demands?

A. I think by facing the futility of the demands. I can demand all I want, but I'm never going to get what I want. So in order to pretend that my demands are worthwhile, I have to keep jumping from relationship to relationship and from thing to thing. I must try a second wife. I must try a different job. I must do something or another. But if I face the futility of my demand and admit that perfection this side of Heaven is simply not available, then I can come to terms with reality and no longer make the demand. I can be free to enjoy what I can get.

 

Q. Explain your statement, "Jesus leaves us in a disappointing world with the commandment to get more involved with people who are guaranteed to disappoint us further." What kind of disappointment are you talking about?

A. Well, my mind always goes to the Lord in the Garden when He said, ‘Watch with Me for an hour." Then He goes off and agonizes over what it means to become sin. Obviously, He is wracked with emotions we'll never understand.

But before that, He opens up to these guys. He says, "I would really like to be involved with you. I would like you to be involved with Me. I'd like your support right now." And obviously it is right to ask for that since He did.

But as He involved Himself with people at the level of making known what He wanted, of letting them know how much He could have used their support, He came back from praying only to find them sound asleep. What He felt there, it seems to me, was the disappointment I'm talking about.

 

Q. What does it mean to get more involved?

A. When I make myself vulnerable by moving into your life, I know full well that when I take down my guard and let you know who I am, at some point you're just not going to respond the way I want you to. Whether you're mean, insensitive, or just finite, at some point you're not going to come through.

If I bring my new child up to you and say, "Here's my new baby," and you say, "It's ugly" and walk away, I don't want to show my baby to you anymore. My baby is a very important part of me, and I don't want to give an important part to you that you might deal with insensitively.

But to get more involved means to keep showing my baby, not to make a decision that the only way to live is to hide my baby in the closet. I must take the deepest part of my soul and move toward other people. Not to everybody. There are some people it's just ridiculous to come close to. I'm not going to hold my baby out to people who hate babies. But I'm sure not going to cut myself off from the Christian community as a general way of living. That would be a mistake.

 

Q. Once we admit our hurt, how can feeling pain in our relationships drive us to a new level of dependence on Christ?

A. I think the bend in our soul that the Fall introduced basically consists of a determination that our own resources are sufficient to make life work. It's only when we face the fact that our resources are not sufficient to get what we need out of this world that we'll feel the incredible, full intensity of pain and be willing in any measure to give up that determination to self-sufficiency.

Feeling the pain in relationships is a way of saying that there really is no relationship, not even the best one we have, that can satisfy the deepest part of our souls. And at that point, we look at people very differently. They can do much for us, but they're just not what we really want.

Then there are really only two options: suicidal despair or clinging to God. If we cling to God and on the basis of His commandments move back toward people, a sense of wholeness develops.

 

Q. So how do we experience the joy Christ promises if what we're really getting in touch with is pain?

A. I think one of the great difficulties today is a wrong definition of the word joy. If joy is a fruit of the Spirit and if our Lord was full of the Spirit, then I presume He had joy. Why, then, is He called a man of sorrows? Why did He weep in the Garden? Why did He weep over Lazarus? Why did He become angry and upset when He took rather aggressive charge of the Temple cleaning operation? In the middle of all that, was He a man of joy?

I think the answer has to be yes. But that requires us to look hard at our definition of joy. I think joy is a product of faith, which is "the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." I think joy is a deep confidence that I really am alive and that one day I'll experience that aliveness in full.

Joy, as I define it, must be preceded by a deep sadness over how sin has ruined the world and by a confidence that the Lord is overcoming the world. "Be of good cheer. In this world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer." Be joyful. Everything has been done for the final victory to be won. Joy is that deep confidence that somehow it's going to work out all right.

The issue is, what are we trusting the Lord for? Trusting God basically means being aware of how much we long for what we don't have, and trusting that it's His problem to worry about, and that He'll handle it even though the evidence now argues against it. As we trust Him, we free ourselves to move into our world for purposes of love rather than preserving ourselves from the pain of the emptiness in our souls.

 

 

You have failed to love me as you should and I have failed to love you. Your failure to love me is painful, sometimes profoundly dissapointing. But the Lord's love for me is perfect. Although His love does not remove the sting of your failure, it gives me all I need to stand as a whole person, capable of loving you regardless of the threat of your further failure. And that is my responsibility, to love you.

Larry Crab
Inside Out