Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Abby's Inspiration for the day...and new freebies
Until the last year I felt that I was cursed to live an entirely trial-less, and hence, completely boring, life; I longed for the romance of struggles and near death experiences. I devoured books in which fearless heroines conquered real and imaginary battles. True, I knew that it would never be as glamorous as a storybook when the battle was actually being fought, but I longed for trials anyway – a way to prove myself to the world – a way to prove myself to myself.
I got my wish. Dreams of Romance came to life in stunning color as my family and I were hurtled into a cement highway divider at sixty-five miles per hour. I looked down at my blood-soaked hoodie and saw a tooth fall out of my mouth. Lovely. It was at this point that I realized some “diabolical scribbler” (to borrow a term from Inkspell) had intervened and destroyed my romantic ideals. Bold and powerful female champions are not supposed to wear dentures.
Recovery was somewhat arduous - the worst part was realizing that this was what I had wished for and that it had somehow gone wrong. Struggling to recover although I knew that my life would never be the same was not particularly encouraging. The exploits I had imagined did contain pain; however, the pain was overshadowed by the guarantee of a somewhat cliché happy ending. Even if the ending was not happy, at least some condolence could be garnered from the poetical “feel” of the situation. There was no poetical “feel”, I decided, in being in a car wreck.
I realize now that attitude was my problem. Of course I was incapable of seeing the beauty in my situation- I didn’t want to see it. I had set my mind on a certain ideal of romance – a particular aspect of a very diverse and subjective issue. I saw beauty only in things that I was convinced were beautiful. To me, a car wreck could never contain beauty.
But it could. I have now come to recognize that there is a sense in which all trials have a certain glory. And it is not always the sufferers that make them glorious. In my case the beauty came from the love that was shown to our undeserving family by people who had no reason to wish to help us. There is no marvelous quality in suffering itself, but suffering is made marvelous when it is aided by love or endured for love. The suffering that I endured was a perfect frame for the picture of love that was given to me in the days and weeks following the wreck.
I always knew that people suffer everywhere, and I always slightly envied the stories they could tell, stories that would move people to tears and action. I now know that true beauty is found in love, not suffering, now that I have realized this, I too must act.
Isn't that great? Hope she made your day like she did mine!! The picture is of her and her (FABULOUS) surgical team when we went back to visit the hospital one year post-wreck.
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Almost Easter...first Good Friday, but then...Sunday's a coming...(have you heard that sermon???)