I have done all that I could
To see the evil and the good without hiding
You must help me if you can
When I was only six or seven years old, my father bought me a bicycle. It was used, of course, but he put a fresh coat of paint on it. I was overjoyed. A major’s son came over and scratched up all the paint, because even a used bicycle was too fine for an enlisted man’s son if it had fresh paint. Nothing happened to him, that was the way of the world and the dividing line between the classes on an Air Force Base.
Even now, I’m aware of class lines and distinctions that apply to me. I grew up in trailer parks with severe attention deficit disorder.
I’ve been on the board of a child advocacy center. I served on the board of a rape crisis center. I did a fair amount of pro bono work for victims of domestic violence.
I’ve buried three children. I’ve sat by helpless unable to do anything for a child with PTSD. My youngest child has Tourette’s Syndrome. I’ve had dreams stolen from me.
I’ve no illusions.
But I take joy in life.
Too often I hear people claim that they’ve seen reality and that they cannot unsee it. That they’ve earned their anger, their self-righteousness, their rage, their judgment on the world.
I first thought about it when a friend of mine, a Black Justice of the Peace who had to run with a white man’s name (because if she hadn’t, she would not have been able to get re-elected in a district that was dominated by whites), commented on the terrible disservice that had been done to children she knew who faced the world through a lens of anger and betrayal. She knew the world was sexist, racist and terribly unfair. But that did not mean we had to be sexist, racist and unfair creatures that mirrored the world.
I’m not Pollyanna. But I also know that I eat better food than the Sun King ate. I sleep in a better bed. My central heat and air conditioning work better than his did. I have far fewer bed bugs or lice than he lived with. I can expect to live longer, with better health.
I can choose to take joy in things, to treasure my living children and love them. To watch them overcome and make progress. To find joy in my life and to look towards the future and to Christ forgiving me of my sins and the wrongs I’ve done others.
I take the following passage of scripture very seriously:
Is there a point to this essay?
Yes.
Bad things can happen to us, but we do not need to become what has happened to us.
The world is filled with both great ugliness and great beauty, and we do not have to choose to reflect the ugliness.
That does not mean that we give in (I would never have volunteered in the places I have volunteered if I thought that). Nor does it mean that we need to rage against the dying of the light.
Instead I think it means that we can seek charity, the true love of Christ, to love without envy or vaunting, to care and to know joy and hope. That I can see the truth that is in God and God’s love for the world.
That is my testimony of what I seek in this life, what I hope to remember and to regain.
Thank you for this, Stephen. You have a gift. It appears to be balm for what you’ve been challenged with and I rejoice with you that you can rise above them.
I will try to remember your example.
Excellent! Well said Stephen.
Thank you for your feedback.
Thanks for introducing me to Jackson Browne. Beautiful essay. I haven’t had as hard a life as you have, but I get depressed. Just last week, fed up with my depression, I decided to try something a bit corny, but it kind of works. In my morning and evening prayers, I list 20 things that I am grateful for. It’s seemed to take the edge off. I like what you say about how so many things about your life is superior to the Sun King.
I agree we each choose purpose and meaning in our lives, largely by how we respond to (and what we make of) our individual circumstances. You’ve eloquently distilled and exemplified what it means to follow our Savior and choose grace, love, and hope. Thank you for this beautiful post.
This pairs nicely with our lesson on Job today in Gospel Doctrine. I was researching a little bit on the Buddhist saying that “Life is suffering.” This is actually not a very accurate translation, implying that the suffering is external to us somehow and that we should just ignore it to transcend it. There are different types of suffering we experience: physical and mental suffering due to the life process itself (birth, aging, illness, death), and the anxiety or dissatisfaction associated with trying to hold onto things when everything is impermanent and changing.
“I’ve no illusions.
But I take joy in life.”
My eyes kept going back up the page and reading this over and over.
Thank you.