The past few weeks have been rough on my little family. It started with Andrew getting a cold/cough three weeks ago, followed by my getting the flu, then the girls coming down with colds and a fever after that. I guess you could say we know how to party.
Being mostly house-bound, and in attempt to avoid cabin fever, I've been extremely grateful for the magical wonder know as audio books. When I was growing up, my siblings and I listened to "Your Story Hour", and Odyssey tapes with a great ferocity. We couldn't get enough of them. In our house, if your birthday was coming up, you were closest in line to getting the newest released set of tapes (and later CDs), which meant that you ruled sibling-dom. Odyssey tapes were like currency to us pre-internet adolecents.
You needed chores done? Wanted your back tickled? Desired your bed made in such a way? DONESKI. We became quite skilled in bargaining. It would go something like this: "I'll let you listen to JUST SIDE A if you do _______ for me." "Oh, but side A is only X minutes long, and X chore would take me X amount of time, so really I should get to listen to THE WHOLE TAPE." Throw in exaggerating the length of a tape, or strenuosity of a chore, add pain and suffering clauses, written contracts in kid scratch, and you get the idea of how dearly we valued our audio stories.
Remembering how much I enjoyed listening as a kid, combined with post flu recovery and NOT wanting to read for hours on end, I was happy to fork over a few bucks on some newly discovered audio deals. As I'd recently screened The Wizard of Oz with Olivia, I figured she would enjoy the book even more than the movie. This particular unabridged version was narrated by Anne Hathaway. If I ever loved her as an actress, her voice acting only endeared her to me further. She made the book come alive with unique voices and such drama that had Olivia riveted. Within three days, Olivia had listened to the 3.5 hour long book narration TWICE! My child, who MUST meet her daily word quota, was rendered nearly mute, hands occupied with playdoh for hours on end, as her mind came alive with a new story.
As I listened to Anne unfold the tale, what struck me was how vastly different the book was from the movie. Yes, okay, so you've got me. I loved to read as a kid, but sadly, never read The Wizard of Oz. I guess I figured they were closely similar, but I couldn't have been more wrong. I was mesmerized as I listened along, to hear a few familiar parts, with the rest seeming entirely new.
Toward the end of the story, there was a part that made me catch my breath. It was after the Lion had received his courage, the Scarecrow his brain, and the Tin-man his heart. All of her friend's desires had come true, while the Wizard's promise to return Dorothy home had been thwarted. At her wit's end, she found herself before Glinda, desperate to know how she could get home. Glinda told her that she had ALWAYS possessed the power to return, if she had just clicked her silver (yes, silver) heels together three times. Pondering this thought, Dorothy's comrades shared that if she had clicked her heels much earlier in the narrative, that each of their journeys would have turned out vastly different. Dorothy's displacement from her home, from her comforts and everything she knew, in short, her suffering, had ended up fulfilling their quests for wholeness. It had made them better characters by the end of the book.
This thought has stuck with me, which is likely why I'm not letting this post go unwritten. It's a truth I've been learning in a new way since we began saying goodbye to our babies. The truth is that we are not an island. That what might feel like being ripped apart may work as the perfectly timed catalyst for other people's growth and wholeness. This makes me see suffering in a different way. It rightly tugs my thoughts away from how my trials are effecting JUST ME, to how those struggles (as well as my response to them!) may change the lives of those around me.
As much as I may have wanted to click my heels to change our story, to be loving an almost one year old son (his sister, and siblings after) that's not how it was supposed to go. There is a purpose, or perhaps many purposes for how things have happened. I may not ever know why, but I do realize that just maybe, we have walked this road not only for our own growth, but for yours as well. At least that's been my prayer.
I don't know where you are on your journey, or what hurts you're enduring, but I hope you'll be encouraged that this (whatever THIS is) isn't just for you. What you're going through has the power to bring greater holiness to us, too. Some of us need to walk down the road a while, carrying a deep yearning for something, before we can think new thoughts, have our hearts moved, or be given greater courage. Your story may be just the thing to grow it in us. Without you, we might not be the people God wants us to become. This community thing is life changing. I believe your day of healing and being made right is coming. But for now, hold tight inside of your shoes, and don't let anything stop you from continuing on your journey, and from taking us alongside you.
"Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." Galatians 6:9
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