Rapturous Difficulties

I have a friend, an older wiser man than I, who starts out things he says by making the following disclaimer,  “I don’t know jack shit about what I’m talking about.” Neither, do I. Brain-damage, however, lets me go into areas I know to little about, and where angels fear to tread.  This is one of them.

A few days ago a friend sent me a list of all the things he is grateful for. It was a beautiful list including things like; a long-term marriage, two incredible kids, a magnificent home. He had so much to be grateful for, that he actually worried that at age 50, he might have already lived a full life, and might not have more. It was amazing how rich with gratitude his life was, and how much he knew he benefited.

That evening, as I was going to sleep, I found myself thinking about him, and his list of gratitudes. I was surprised. To my astonishment, I found myself uneasy with his list. Something was missing. After a great deal of reflection, and some hours of wakefulness, I discovered what it was. There was nothing on his list that expressed gratitude for hardships.

The darkness created me. Suffering did more to teach me than anything. What I had no control of, and played no intentional part in, did more to shape me than most everything else. It was my life’s twists, the turns I didn’t expect, that tested me, and taught me my worth. These things too, I am grateful for, perhaps all the more, because they were the work of providence. I grew in ways I did not intend, but never-the-less benefited from.

It is this, the dark work of the invisible hands, the ones that trimmed my sails, and cast me into unknown oceans I would have never have knowingly sailed, that fiercely graced me — pulling me into a form unexpected — that I am humbled by, and most grateful for. I was thrust beyond myself, forced to deal with things that existed way beyond my control. 

These hardships, my stroke, the failed marriages, the potential I didn’t actualize, these did more to educate and sensitize me than any of my successes. It was a dark God, the cursed one— who interrupted my plans, asking what seemed impossible of me — that lead me home. My life, I have come to know, is not my life, it is Life’s life, and this is what I am most grateful for now: the difficulties that have shaped me.

I am more thoroughly human, because Life wrung the hubris out of me, making me more humble than I would have ever been if left to my own devices. I now walk (roll) with the weight of vulnerability and grace always haunting me, reminding me how quickly things can turn, and forcing me to recognize this small, but somehow exalted place I get to inhabit for a while.

The difficulty, as undesirable as it is, seems to make it all more real.  The hardships have graced me with a certain awareness of how “Lucky” I truly am. I wouldn’t have chosen what has brought out the best in me. But, I can be grateful, for that churlish wise one, loved me enough, to add hurt and disappointment to my depths.