16 years ago, as clear as day in my memory, a certain person laughed at me. I was not in a position then to do anything other than wallow. I had no idea back then, at the genesis of my grief—in the first week of any genuine suffering I’d ever experienced—whether I’d ever recover. And that recovery did take years.
But tomorrow came. It came.
It was, of course, inevitable that tomorrow would come. It always does.
But we fail for hope in not being able to get past our present circumstances. We must be reminded of a truth of life that comes to pass always.
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The funny thing about tomorrow coming is this: it’s not just one tomorrow, but there are many positive, favour-filled, payback tomorrows to be had. If I had a rock bottom September 16 years ago, by 13 years ago it wasn’t so much forgotten as redeemed! And almost every September after that has been etched in some sort of glory.
Our disasters are only ever temporary. They’re designed to test us. If they knock us over and we don’t get up when we could, whose fault is it? Sure, it was a calamity, and whether we brought it on or not, if it was our reality that couldn’t be readily changed, we’re fools unless we set our minds and hearts on making good on it. The event of adversity is an event. What we make of that event is a story. What narrative are we writing?
We aren’t defined by the moments that wreck us. Our legacy isn’t in the things that happen to us, but our legacy is made in our response to these things. The impact we have on others has magnitude either way. If we react negatively, all those who love us are also disadvantaged.
But if we react positively, against the tide of our own temptation, and those ‘wise’ ones who would advise, we hammer a stake into the ground of our destiny.
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That September 16 years ago for me was utter torment. The months and indeed few years after it were astonishingly painful. I did have thoughts to end it all. It got bad, often with incredible suddenness.
Yet, I hoped that my lot would dramatically improve, and I had to hope, for it was all I had. Faith was my only option. And in a fair analysis of all our laments, that’s the reality we all face. Faith is the only viable option if we are, like God, for ourselves.
Who wouldn’t be for themselves? Who would sabotage their own life? Well, astonishingly it’s so many, through apathy or sloth or anger or lust or envy they cannot overcome.
But a will that insists on the hope of a coming tomorrow does what is needed today. That is to bunker down, take in some food, get one’s rest, be patient for the long haul, and ready oneself for hard times immediately ahead with few guarantees.
But much better days are coming.
They surely are!
The person who laughed at me 16 years ago doesn’t laugh at me anymore. That story ended, and ceased being relevant, so long ago.
It’s how every story ends. If we keep the faith that tomorrow always comes.
Photo by Aleksandr Kozlovskii on Unsplash
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