The Significance of Discomfort

My goal is to convince you to embrace discomfort.  

As I type those words I’m sitting on my couch, wrapped in a soft warm blanket, drink beside me.  I realize the hypocrisy of my goal, but hear me out.  

Comfort isn’t bad. I’ll even call it good. Comfort can allow us to recharge, heal, recover. It’s not comfort that concerns me, it’s the priority of comfort. Every time we prioritize one thing, other things get bumped down the list. It’s those other things that are my focus.  

If you’re reading this, there’s a decent chance you live in America. You know how to read. You have access to resources like this publication, and you have time to read it. That means you’re part of a culture that teaches us to prioritize comfort. Here in my living room, I see a fan designed to keep me cool (read comfortable). I’m ensconced in my couch, crafted to be inviting and comfortable. My home’s architects installed a gas fireplace because they thought I’d want to have a fire without doing all of the work for a fire. They were right. Windows to let in outside light, but without the annoyances of actually being outside. Air conditioner. Refrigerator. Cushy carpet. Comfortable clothes. Pillow top mattress. More blankets and pillows than my entire family could ever use. 

And that’s just physical comfort.  

What about emotional comfort? Google “comfort” and you’ll find that our culture talks a lot about comfort food. The feeling you get from eating food that typically isn’t good for you, but sure makes you feel good. Comfort in relationships? That’s easy, as long as you don’t go too deep or get too intimate. Then it gets messy, and that’s uncomfortable.  

So why not choose comfort? Why embrace discomfort? Glad you asked.

Because our priority of comfort displaces other priorities.  

I’ve learned when diving into something like this, it’s best (and most uncomfortable) to look at my own life rather than assume something about yours. But I’m guessing there’s some crossover, some areas that affect all of us. Here are some instances when the appeal of comfort wins far too often.  

Getting up early to spend time studying and praying. – “My bed is so comfortable and besides, I need the rest.”

Helping my wife clean the house after coming home from work or the kids are in bed. – “I’ve already worked all day providing for us, meaning I’ve already hit my quota of discomfort for the day, and I’ve failed to realize that her desire for a clean home is equally important and holy as my earning a paycheck.”

Intentionally engaging with that homeless person I see everyday. – “I’m in a bit of a time crunch right now, and besides there are shelters that can help them”

Having that difficult conversation with a friend. He’s gone too far in his friendly bantering with that woman. – “If I bring it up, it’s just a recipe for disaster, there’s no way we’re still friends after that. Besides, it’s probably nothing.” 

Fully engaging my neighbor so I can get to know him, and if necessary, share about God’s redemptive love in my life. - “It’s uncomfortable talking to him. We have such different personalities, and he seems to have his life together already.”

I often fail in these and other areas because I prioritize physical or emotional comfort more than I prioritize doing what’s best. Comfort wraps me in its soft embrace and whispers softly to me until apathy sets in. Comfort closes the blinds on the suffering of the world and entices me to disengage, to let those beyond my comfort zone work things out on their own.  

Thankfully, there are times when I’ve freed myself from the priority of comfort. I chose discomfort and from it came small but powerful moments when I did something significant, something truly worth doing. These are the times I did something that will last, something eternal. 

If I’m being honest though, discomfort scares me. But I’m not alone. Discomfort scares others too. We see this story told many times in the Gospels. Jesus is performing miracles and people come up to him saying they have decided to follow him wherever he goes. His first reply is about comfort. “Foxes have dens and birds of the air have nests but the Son of Man has no where to lay his head. (English Standard Version Bible, 2001, Matthew 8:20)” He reminds those would-be followers that following him means living uncomfortably. 

Following Jesus requires embracing discomfort.  

My goal is to convince you to embrace discomfort too, together.