Camels are strong and can carry huge loads, but, like strong people, a camel’s back can be broken. Such a collapse can leave the camel, or the person, broken beyond tears. What happens after the camel’s back is broken?
Note about the image: This is a picture of the game I reference. This happy camel has empty baskets and an intact back.
My Mysterious Mind
I’ve been thinking about a game we played as children, that I remember as “Don’t Break the Camel’s Back.” It’s actually called The Last Straw game, for which I linked a video so you can see how it worked in case your childhood lacked this entertaining combination of plastic and rubber band. Modeled after the use of camels to carry heavy burdens such as straw, this game has a two-piece camel holding a basket, its front and back halves held together by a rubber band and its feet equipped with wheels. Players take turns adding “straws” to the basket; the player who adds the “last straw” causing the camel’s back to “break,” is the loser. Of course, everyone “wins” with the laughter that erupts when the camel comes crashing down.
It doesn’t work that way in real life. The straw that breaks the camel’s back isn’t funny at all. In fact, the broken camel may be crushed beyond words, broken beyond tears. Like the camel, I had a back-breaking experience recently, where all I could feel was anger, like a scream as my back was broken and I collapsed. I received news so heartbreaking that I became a jumble of thoughts without voice, a tumult of feelings without a clear stream of expression.
Gutted. I’ve been watching a show with British celebrities who describe such heart-crushing, gut-punch experiences with a single word: Gutted.
I felt ill in my gut, sick in my being. Gutted. Absolutely gutted. I wanted to cry. I needed to cry. But only heavy sighs were able to come forth from me. No tears. No words. Just sighs. Lots and lots of sighs.
When asked “how are you? in the usual daily interactions, I said I am OK. But that’s not the whole story. Yes, I was still alive and functioning. I looked OK. I acted OK.
But the sighs hinted at a different truth. My heart was crushed. A heavy load had pushed the air from my spirit-lungs. Only my husband and my Lord could hear me. As I was buried under the load that had me broken.
Amid the torrent of chaotic thoughts, I wondered: would this news have crushed me if my load had been lighter when I received it? Could I have had an, “oh, well, that’s too bad” reaction and gone on my way instead of collapsing into a heap of broken-backed camel?
The answer doesn’t really matter, I suppose, because there I was. Broken. Crushed. Gutted.
I watched the Netflix documentary on the Nepal earthquake. During the rescue efforts the rescuers needed to be quiet and listen for sounds of survivors who were crushed under collapsed structures. Too weak to cry out, only their labored breathing could be heard, and that only if listening with intense care.
Like an earthquake, it’s no one’s fault that I was crushed by the news I received a week ago. Like living on a fault line, I was aware of the dangers of being crushed. I knew the bad news might come. But knowing didn’t matter. The news still broke me. And, like the buildings in Nepal, rebuilding and recovery will be slow and difficult. And what was will never be the same as what will be.
Crushing news comes to each of us. A cancer diagnosis. An impending job termination. Irreconcilable differences in a marriage. A home destroyed by fire, flood, or tornado. A serious life-altering or life-ending accident. Loss of a child, grandchild, or spouse.
When the news is crushing the timing doesn’t matter much. Nor does the strength of the camel’s back or the amount of load already being carried. Collapse is inevitable. And, in the aftermath, there may be only sighs. Crushed beyond words. Broken beyond tears. And anyone nearby will have to listen carefully to hear the heavy sighs to know what has happened.
Have you or someone you love been crushed recently by terrible news? Was the last straw just a straw or something bigger? What happens now, as the broken-backed camel lies sprawled on the ground?
Message of Mystery Acres
The timing of back-breaking news for me included an already-planned trip to the woods soon thereafter. Within only a few hours I was in my beloved forest on a beautiful perfect-temperature day. And there, with my husband, our two dogs, and the blanket of God’s creation, I processed my broken back. Having forgotten my phone charger, I turned off my phone and rested in a detached space.
I took the dogs for a walk; or should I say I let them take me for a walk? Restraining them on short leashes, I let them follow their noses along game trails through the trees. I looked for spring’s first flowers and found a few. We walked the game trails, the gravel road, and portions of the empty creek. When they were ready to return to our campsite, I let them choose a difficult path straight up the side of the ravine. I relinquished control of the experience and let the dog-led journey minister to me.
In the cabin, I helped my husband install a small window AC/heating unit. I tacked some loose decorative tiles on the bathroom ceiling with a staple gun and finished the last ceiling tile on the motorhome ceiling (where I was concealing water damage). The next day, with the cabin warmed by the new unit, powered by electricity from the motorhome generator, I caulked the cabin paneling. At times I just sat in a lawn chair, outside or in the cabin, and let the cacophony of thoughts and the tsunami of emotions flow unabated. Two dogs crowded my lap to keep me company.
The message of Mystery Acres is a voice calling for healing. Off-grid, out-of-phone-connection, and deep in the mysterious order only nature understands, my feelings and thoughts were free to roam. I took an out-of-my-control walk led by dogs and did small under-my-control tasks. I looked up at the perfect moment, on a perfect day, and saw a bald-headed eagle soar overhead carrying its dinner. And, when it was time to return home, I was better, not completely recovered, but better.
Ancient Mystery’s Voice
“When in distress I cried to God; He answered me from His vastness.” (See Psalm 118:5)
This verse from the book of Psalms includes the word “distress” in most translations. In the NIV translation, that word is replaced with hard-pressed. This call-response verse, where the writer is calling for help is met with a response from God. The original Hebrew words used for that divine response refer to a large place. The imagery, though somewhat distorted by translation into English, seem to be about being caught in a tight place, hard-pressed, and calling for help; that help coming from a spacious place. Some translations even interpret the response as bringing the distressed person into a large, open space.
In any case, the person who is crying out is in trouble, without resources for their own rescue. The Lord responds from a place of unlimited supply, flowing from His unbounded being.
Like the broken-backed camel, able only to scream in pain and then sigh quietly, there are times when we are needing help but don’t know what we even need. Though our cry for help might be as quiet as a small, heavy sigh, the response is not small or heavy. The Lord responds to the needs of His hurting children from a place of vastness, because He is infinite.
The voice of Ancient Mystery invites each of us to cry out for help, even if just in an almost-inaudible sigh. Then, as we lie crushed on the ground, unable to stand on our own, He reaches down with unbounded strength, able to lift us back to our feet.
Are you in distress? Is your back broken? Call out for help. The Lord will answer you from His vastness.
Living in Mystery
What can we do to live in the mystery of a world where our backs can be overburdened, leaving us too broken for tears? Or how can we respond when someone we love has collapsed under the weight of life’s burdens?
First, it means to move past analyzing the timing of the “last straw.” It doesn’t matter when or how the crippling, bad news arrived, only that it did, and now efforts need to move to restoration. Letting go of the how or when of the “last straw,” we can move to recovery, either ours or the one we love who is crushed.
Find something beautiful in the rubble. Like earthquake or tornado survivors, search the wreckage for what has survived the collapse. The smallest thing might be the key to unlocking the healing. A photograph. A memory. A piece of jewelry. Such items might release the tears from the heart so its healing can begin.
Broken-backed camels don’t cry. Already so vulnerable they are collapsed on the ground, crying brings greater vulnerability. However, only when they begin to cry can the breath return to their spirit-lungs. Only tears can release the flow of pain from being trapped inside the heart. Too broken for tears, too crushed for words, the broken-backed camel is trapped by its brokenness.
Are you broken? Is someone or something you love broken? Try fixing something. Caulk some paneling. Fix a loose ceiling tile. Clear debris. Act in hopeful ways, even if you feel no hope. Even if what is broken cannot be fixed. We fix food for the grieving, provide clothes for those whose homes have been destroyed, send flowers to the hurting – because we CAN do these things.
If you are crushed under the weight of a heavy load, try not to panic. Sit quietly, conserve energy, and wait for rescue. Look for signs of hope, signs of rescue. Like the eagle flyover or the first blooms of spring, help, like spring, is coming.
Are you buried from a long-ago collapse? How long has it been since you cried? Is your back still broken and you trapped by that brokenness?
When your mind is in a jumble, listen to your heart. Have courage to feel what is there. Write down what is going on inside of your heart and your mind. Even a tiny stream of words can bring in the flow of healing. If it’s not you with the broken back but someone you love deeply, encourage them to release a trickle of words. Please know that what comes out might not be pretty. It might, in fact, be terribly ugly.
Like a camel whose load has become too great, collapsing under the weight, the arrival of the last straw can be sudden and create hopelessness. Cry out for help to the Lord, even if only in your sighing. Wait quietly, trying not to panic, as you look around you for signs of hope or help. Invite healing by finding something beautiful in the rubble. Have the courage to release a trickle of words and feelings and tears. Help and healing are on the way. And, on that note, I am going to see if I can cry now.
Connecting with Mystery
Dear Lord of All Mystery, the burdens of this life can be heavy, sometimes too heavy to stand up under. Collapsing under the weight, remind me to cry out to You for help, while watching for signs of Your deliverance. Give me the courage to cry when I am too crushed for tears. Help me to notice others whose backs are broken, granting me the compassion to respond with whatever help I can. Thank You for never being too busy or distracted to hear my sighs, or the sighs of those I love. Amen.
Notes from Dr. Mac
For those of you who will become concerned about what broke my camel’s back, let me just say this: It was very sad news from a friend. I chose to write about this incident because I know some of you are dealing with some crushing news of a much more serious nature, things like cancer diagnoses or homes and schools destroyed by recent tornadoes. I pray the sharing of my experience will bring you strength and restoration to your brokenness.
If you want to do your own investigation of any of the scriptures I use, I suggest you go to Bible Gateway. This free online version of the Bible allows a search of words or phrases in various translations. I encourage you to read a chapter from the book of Psalms; there are plenty of good ones.
Do you want more from my writing? I have almost three years of previous posts, which you can find at my ARCHIVE. I also have topically organized compilations of my previous work in the My Books section. And Mystery’s Voice is on Spotify.
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