What if the things we most fear about our bodies--our vulnerability to illness and pain--are exactly the places where God meets us most fully? As Liuan Huska went through years of chronic pain, she wondered why God seemed absent and questioned some of the common assumptions about healing. What do we do when our bodies don't work the way they should? What is healing, when one has a chronic illness? Can we still be whole when our bodies suffer? The Christian story speaks to our experiences of pain and illness. In the embodiment of Jesus' life, we see an embrace of the body and all of the discomfort and sufferings of being human. Countering a Gnosticism that pits body against spirit, Huska takes us on a journey of exploring how healing is not an escape from the limits of the body, but becoming whole as souls in bodies and bodies with souls. As chronic pain forces us to pay attention to our bodies' vulnerability, we come to embrace the fullness of our broken yet beautiful bodies. She helps us redefine what it means to find healing and wholeness even in the midst of ongoing pain.
Liuan Huska is a freelance writer and speaker focusing on topics of embodiment and spirituality. Her writing, on everything from chronic pain to evangelical fertility trends, appears in Christianity Today, The Christian Century, In Touch Magazine, Hyphen, Sojourners, and Church Health Reader. She lives with her husband and their three little boys in the Chicago area.
Summary: When a vibrant young writer descends into a season of chronic pain, she discovers the disembodied character of much Christian theology, that she could be whole as a person yet hurting, and that pain and physical vulnerability can be a place where we are met by God.
It started as a pain in her left ankle. Soon she could not walk more than a few blocks before the pain became too great. Visits to orthopedists and an array of other specialist brought no relief. Unremitting and spreading pain and unanswered prayers to be made whole once again brought her to a crisis of faith:
“I struggled to patch my faith into the growing hole of despair in my core. There were no easy answers. I wanted to be healed. I wanted to be whole. Wholeness is a unity of parts, a fitting together of pieces into a seamless, coherent entity. I was anything but whole. I was falling apart on so many levels.”
LIUAN HUSKA, P. 8
As Huska confronts her despair, she discovers that much of Christian theology is split at the core between body and soul, influenced by ancient (and perhaps contemporary?) Gnosticism to see the soul as under assault by the fallen body. And when our bodies suffer from vulnerabilities of illness and pain, there is an urgency to restore bodily wholeness because this means spiritual wholeness. And if healing eludes us, there must be something spiritually wrong.
Huska discovered that while healing does sometimes comes, wholeness can come amid acceptance of our body’s brokenness. God may not spare us from pain, but God may give us something more–God’s own presence in which true wholeness is found.
Before unfolding more fully what this journey was like for her, she describes the myth of medical mastery as she worked her way through a variety of specialists, and found herself no better. She also talks about the particular vulnerabilities women face and the ways women’s experience of pain is often dismissed by the medical establishment. (This is one reason why this book should be read by men as well as women!)
Huska helps us see that all of us have vulnerable bodies. It just takes some of us longer to find out! Vulnerability can take us from independence to interdependence in which accepting the care of others while respecting their needs allows both them and us to flourish. Facing our limits becomes a place where we discover God is able to work his abundance through our broken bodies.
One area I’m surprised Huska didn’t address was the use of pain-relievers. Opioids have brought both blessed relief and the added burden of addiction. This does not appear to have been part of Huska’s pain treatments but have been prescribed (and sometimes over-prescribed) for others. This is also a part of bodily brokenness and one to be handled with sensitivity and without shaming.
Huska offers help in how we care for others in pain. Mostly listening. Open-ended questions. No nostrums. No fixes. Meals. Hugs. If welcome, accompaniment on doctor appointments. Her own story of helpful friends, a mostly supportive husband (caregivers get tired!), and her journey into a theology of embodiment, suffering, and wholeness is helpful whether we are suffering pain or care for someone who is. Perhaps the most significant message is simply that we don’t have to be healed to be whole.
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Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.
I can’t even begin to express how needed this book is. As a church leader who suffers from chronic illness, it is refreshing to read something that has shifted even how I view grace on myself, even though I would freely give that grace to others. I think this should be required reading for every church leader to build an understanding of suffering that is present in their own congregations and often left untended. I especially love how Liuan addresses how lament in the worship experience (since I’m a minister of worship arts) can address the lack of corporate unity, especially with the marginalized in our midst. Beautiful writing; and amazing how after reading a book by someone you don’t personally know, you feel known?
Got 15% of the way through when I realized I need to brush up on my historical theology of man, sin, evil, and suffering before I listen to this. Huska takes seemingly wild leaps of imagination when interpreting scripture, though she does not portray her approach as anything but common sense. She seems to be asking questions of the text which it was not necessarily given to answer, or at least drawing conclusions to fit her own lived experience rather than a higher truth from God and about God to whom we must submit our lived experiences.
I understand the temptation to do this— I have lived with chronic pain for 25 years. I have wrestled with theodicy too many times to count. Without the wide lens of redemptive history, much that the Bible has to say about suffering and pain is difficult to understand, let alone find hope in. But in the end, living every moment in bodily pain does not exempt any of us from the call to rightly divide the Word of God.
Marked as “read” so I can remember my initial impression when I return to this one.
A beautiful reflection on life with chronic illness and what it means to be whole despite the prescence of pain. My full review is here: https://mereorthodoxy.com/more-than-l...
In this book, Liuan Huska shares about her personal experiences with chronic illness, what she has learned from the struggle, and how her bodily pain has clarified her faith and theology. She seamlessly combines memoir, theology, and social reflection, and encourages her readers to think deeply about how Western views of success devalue the body and hurt people who cannot perform up to society’s expected standards. As she writes about “the cult of normalcy,” she encourages her readers to accept vulnerability in themselves and others, instead of tying their identities to abilities that can swiftly change. Huska explores a theology of the body that makes room for these experiences, and encourages Christians to live out a fully embodied faith.
She also addresses many social elements of the chronic pain experience, including frustrations with doctors, disappointments with the church, and the unique challenges that women face. I especially appreciated the chapter about women’s medical experiences and greater propensity to chronic illnesses, because she never dismisses sick men’s struggles, and engages with different potential explanations for women’s higher vulnerability without an agenda-driven point to prove. She handles this sensitive topic very well, and I found it refreshing in comparison to previous reading experiences. Huska validates and speaks to women’s specific struggles in this chapter, but never shuts out a male readership.
This book is great for people who suffer from chronic illness, love someone who does, or want to better understand this issue. Huska writes with clarity and sensitivity about her personal experience, wider societal issues, and theological questions related to the body and suffering, and she does all of this in a way that invites further reflection and discussion, instead of claiming any final word in these areas of mystery. I appreciate her humility, her kind tone, and her effort to keep this book applicable and encouraging to people from a variety of backgrounds. I will probably read this again, and would definitely recommend it.
I received a free copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
This book offers a robust theology of suffering while also applying the conclusions to a church body setting. Huska has some wonderful insights, and I particularly appreciated the stories from individuals navigating chronic pain peppered throughout the chapters.
The main points I took away: -wrestling with the limits and brokenness of our bodies can bring us closer to God -the church often does a poor job walking alongside those with chronic or long-term pain, looking for ways to wrap up suffering in a bow instead of sitting with others experiencing ongoing hardship -worth is not determined by productivity levels, which is a particularly needed reminder when considering chronic pain limitations -we as the church have much to glean and learn from Christians who are and who have endured chronic pain; let them preach
I think this may be one of the best if not the best book I’ve read thus far on physical suffering. Huska writes as one who’s been in it, and—this is important—is actually a good writer. The weaving of personal experience, theology, and insight from health professionals and other Christians of old who have walked through pain, was well done and brought a wholistic view on the topic. Some of her thought-provoking perspectives offered may challenge your own, but it’s not for the sake of being edgy or whatever; rather it’s for really wrestling through what it means to live as redeemed people in broken bodies. Suffering people don’t need easy answers anyways (ex. Job). If you wish to know “how to live, even now,” whatever your now is, this book will be a gift to you.
This book covers so much really important theology. It’s an exploration of the importance of the physical for Christians. This is a much needed correction to a modern theology that is unknowingly caught up in Platonism. In light of the physical, she explores how we relate to suffering. With so many platitudes in the church it can be easy to gloss over suffering or make it some necessity for the greater good. All of this goes back to the incarnation. A great exercise in practical theology.
“We can also offer an important rejoinder in the health care conversation by how we define health itself. Instead of seeing a higher “quality of life” or the absence of disease as the standard we can reframe health as shalom, which, notes disability scholar John Swinton, is the closest word for “health” in the Bible. It’s root meaning is wholeness,completeness, and well being….
“We can ask ourselves, as we care for our bodies and engage in broader conversations around health care policies, what will bring us closer to shalom? … what fears or illusions of control are driving our decisions, and how can we relinquish these to God?”
Hurting Yet Whole by Liuan Huska was the book on suffering that I needed ten years ago. Huska, after enduring years of chronic pain, has written a book that addresses many of the heartbroken and desperate questions those of us suffering from chronic illness repeatedly cry to God about.
There are a couple of things that particularly meant a lot to me as I was reading. First, Huska has included multiple stories, in addition to her own. I appreciated hearing people from all types of chronic illnesses and I was able to identify with many of their experiences. Second, the author does not shy away from sharing tough conversations between herself and her husband. It was comforting to know that my spouse and I are not alone in our circumstances.
I think this book would be a valuable read for those that are struggling right now and those who want to better understand the people around them. Suffering and pain are everywhere and we all would do well to re-evaluate what it means to be whole.
I received this ARC ebook from NetGalley and I am thankful it is on my radar now. I plan on purchasing a hard copy for my library so I can reread and underline all the good bits. I want to be able to share quotes and encourage people in my circle to read it.
It's hard to rate a book whose author you're friends with, so I'll focus on comments. Huska has some really lyrical passages in this reflection on suffering, as experienced through the lens of chronic pain. The book draws together personal experience, interviews and reading on the topic in a thought-provoking meditation on bodies and brokenness.
One of things I may remember longest from this is her repeated observation of how relatively recent longer lifespans are, as well as problems like chronic pain. That historical perspective really struck me and offered much to consider regarding other parts of life, such as my grief that, as a 43-year-old single woman, even if I do yet become a mother, my kids will enjoy far fewer years with parents and grandparents than I did. I've spent much of life wishing to recreate my experience of parents only 26 when they had me and maternal grandparents who lived into my late 30s (he) and even early 40s (she). Huska's book reminds how new and recent that is, despite some of the genealogies in Genesis.
I've never faced chronic pain, but her book articulates many things I've heard from friends who do. More generally, it's also an honest reflection on coming of age in your faith and facing the ways that suffering can temper an overly positive relationship with God (think: happy all the time, with no room for lament, never mind *the psalms*). Whether singleness, infertility, addiction, racism, trauma, a special-needs child or other challenges, nearly all Christians face at least some major aspects of life that we wouldn't choose. How we respond to that tends to make or break our faith, as Huska's book movingly depicts.
Anyone is church leadership needs to read this book; particularly if you're a part of the evangelical tradition. For too long we've put productivity over people and this is a great call to arms to rethink healing and how we view wholeness. It's also really nicely written and easy to read.
In Hurting Yet Whole, Huska engages thoughtfully and sensitively with a difficult, necessary topic: how Christians ought to think about and live well with chronic illness and chronic pain. She explores her topic through several lenses, including theology, sociology, and psychology, weaving thought-provoking questions and insights with reflections on her own experiences and others’ stories of journeying with chronic illness and pain. There are no easy answers here, but there is plenty of honest engagement with the challenges of navigating church, the medical system, and culture with the limitations of a chronically ill or hurting body. Throughout, Huska points the reader to consider how we might form a richer understanding of healing and wholeness, recognizing that there is much we may never understand, but that the God who took on a fragile, human body in Christ journeys with us in our own fragile bodies. I found the book helpful in opening up questions about my own experience of the fragility and the gift of living in a human body, both regarding particular sorts of relatively minor but still limiting chronic pain issues, and also the general limitations that are inherent to embodiment. Many of the questions and ideas Huska opened were challenging both personally and theologically, and I am still ruminating over some of them, but I feel confident that even for folks who feel unsure about or disagree with some of Huska’s theological conclusions, there is still much wisdom and solace to be found here.
Hurting Yet Whole Reconciling Body and Spirit in Chronic Pain and Illness by Liuan Huska InterVarsity Press IVP Christian Pub Date 08 Dec 2020
I am reviewing a copy of Hurting Yet Whole through InterVarsity Press and Netgalley:
If you are dealing with Chronic Pain or Illness, I’d highly recommend hurting Yet Whole.
What if the places we fear the most about our bodies, the vulnerability to illness or pain is the exact place where God meets us most fully?
The author Liuan Huska went through years of chronic pain herself and wondered wondered why God seemed absent and questioned some of the common assumptions about healing. What do we do when our bodies don't work the way they should? What is healing, when one has a chronic illness? Can we still be whole when our bodies suffer? The Christian story speaks to our experiences of pain and illness. In the embodiment of Jesus' life, we see an embrace of the body and all of the discomfort and sufferings of being human. Countering a Gnosticism that pits body against spirit.
In this book Huska takes her readers on on a journey of exploring how healing is not an escape from the limits of the body, but becoming whole as souls in bodies and bodies with souls. As chronic pain forces us to pay attention to our bodies' vulnerability, we come to embrace the fullness of our broken yet beautiful bodies. She helps redefine what it means to find healing and wholeness when you are experiencing on going pain.
What I appreciate most about the author is that she addresses every part of who we are: spirit, mind and body. Before my chronic pain journey began, I saw my body simply as a tool to get things done or didn't think about it at all except for the occasional flu or sprained ankle. But when the pain set in and never went away, I saw my body as "other." Not only did I feel disconnected from my body, but other people. Too often I received or interpreted messages that compelled me to focus solely on the spirit as if the body didn't matter. But when pain is a constant companion, it matters.
Her theology of suffering sheds light into the disconnect and disillusionment that some of us have felt within our bodies and in the church. At some point, whether it's chronic illness or other life-altering event, something may, as the author writes, "pull the rug under our old identities, interests and life pursuits. We no longer know who we are or who God is. We must find a new way to be." I wish I had Luian's insight, grace and wisdom as companions along my journey a long time ago. The truth is, we are all broken and hurting in some way. Jesus embraced our humanity while he was fully God. This book is for all of us who are seeking to tap into that mystery and to walk in true wholeness.
Reading this book has felt like hearing from a kindred soul. Each chapter I found myself nodding or crying in recognition and feeling like Huska was able to put into words things that I have tried and failed to explain. I am a fervent margin-annotator and I’m now worried that anyone who borrows my copy in the future will roll their eyes at the sheer number of underlined passages. Additionally, I appreciate the attention to intersectional identities and vulnerability on how this shows up in Huska’s, and others’, experience. I also am grateful for the discussion on how chronic illness is trauma. Often, people talk about emotional trauma’s impact on physical health but aren’t taught about how physical trauma leads to emotional pain. I thought that growing up in the church, and subsequently going through cancer and illness in church spaces, would provide comfort in suffering and yet more often than not the opposite was true for the exact reasons outlined in this book. Overall, a great read. Especially helpful if you or a loved one has or is experiencing health concerns. Filled with insightful thoughts as well as useful, practical information.
My Western cultural context (both within and outside Christianity) tends to privilege bodies that are "healthy" and gets uncomfortable around illness, pain, and vulnerability.
Common responses to illness, pain, or anything that makes us uncomfortable with our bodies is to either view ourselves in strictly intellectual and spiritual terms - a brain or a soul "caged" by an inconvenient body or to anxiously cling to "faith" that we would be healed. Liuan Huska, grounded in both deep reflection on her own experiences with chronic pain and a multidisciplinary study of what "pain" means, offers a third way - learning to embrace our whole selves in our "brokenness" as the place where God meets us. Like a deeply engaging conversation with a friend you can connect with on both a “heart” and a “head” level, this beautifully written book will make you think more deeply about, and gain a deeper appreciation of, these beautiful and limited physical selves that allow us to experience the world and connect with each other.
"May we heal from ways of thinking that dishonor our bodies and deepen the rifts between our bodies, minds, and spirits."
The book is a useful look at hoe church/theology has failed us in this, with a particular look at medical models and the ways misogyny is woven through (touches also on racism).
There isn't much I would disagree with, necessarily, it's just a much softer, gentler tone (towards institutions and societal constructs) than I, personally, would take. She frequently steps up to addressing things and then leaves them be (esp. anything to do with capitalism). But I can see this being very useful, esp. for anyone not coming from a disability justice perspective (or nervous about such a perspective).
For myself I find "My Body Is Not A Prayer Request: Disability Justice In The Church" by Amy Kenny to be more compelling. However, "Hurting Yet Whole" also gives a historical perspective of how disability has been considered in theology which, esp. for those in ministry, would be useful.
*I received a copy in advance from the publisher in order to interview the author on my podcast.
As someone running a ministry for people in chronic pain, I can’t tell you how lacking the resources are for this marginalized group. Liuan Huska has done a beautiful job of leading her readers on a journey through questioning, grief, acceptance, and self-worth to find wholeness amidst their pain, not in spite of it. She puts to words what so many have struggled with in understanding how church culture includes (and/or should include) those who don’t fit the mold of societal worth. Some of what she says may challenge notions that you have held dear, but I think even that itself makes this read worth your time. Huska’s voice is one that is much needed in this conversation surrounding pain, and I’m grateful she chose to share her story. I highly recommend!
I began reading hoping to gain insights that would allow me to better understand and support friends and family who navigate chronic pain and illness. I ended deeply grateful for Liuan's gentle, yet persist nudging to all of us to reexamine our views of and relationships with our bodies. I am thankful for this book for both of these reasons.
Liuan has seamlessly blended theology, science, art, and personal stories (hers and others') into a book that reads like a deep and meaningful conversation with a friend and mentor. She engages deeply with people's stories and doesn't shy away from acknowledging the hard, while also presenting a truly hopeful view of life and holistic healing.
I have read many books on suffering, many. One thing I find amazing is that even when they have a lot of things and topics in common, not one story is the same as the other. I appreciate a lot how the author expresses her own struggles, dissapointment and how they express their faith even in the middle of the darkness. I´m always inspired and encouraged by this kind of book. Thankful for the vulnerability shared here.
Liuan talks about living with chronic pain from the Christian standpoint. Without being preachy, she shares her story and the stories of others, encouraging us along the way. She mixes in real life and events we can all relate too. She doesn't leave out medical insights. She identifies and validates the emotional side of living with pain. She opens her life to us; giving us hope for wholeness in and through the pain.
Huska offers readers an insightful, honest look at what it's like to walk around in a broken body as a person of faith. As one who has lived this reality for the past 20 years, I found her work helpful and encouraging. It's complex to believe in a God who heals and yet not receive healing—at least not in the way we expect. She helps us to formulate our own unique answer to the question, "How can I live well in the midst of ongoing physical suffering/pain?" You won't find cliches or easy answers in Hurting Yet Whole. You will find companionship, insight, and hope.
A few eyebrow raising moments theologically. But this is a beautifully written, beautifully honest book. It is valuable for normal people wondering what chronic pain looks and feels like. It could be helpful for those in pastoral roles or church leadership wanting to think practically about inclusion and serving us/them too.
Very intense and interesting. Not sure I agree with everything she said but it was very thought provoking. The overall message was right on mark though. Definitely worth the read- even if she does give too much information at points.