I confess-I am a fixer. You name a problem and I will gnaw on it like a zombie on a leg bone until I have uncovered the happy solution, which I used to believe always rested at the heart of any conundrum. I struggle hard to find solutions, you see, because if I don't, inner peace eludes me completely. Fretting takes over my whole body in little, sneaky ways, and works its poison into me: an ache here, a frustration there, a scowl, an accusation, or maybe a bad night's sleep. The list goes on until I solve the dilemma currently in front of me, and I am at peace. At least until the next one introduces itself.
Today, I know that some difficulties don't have happy solutions resting inside of them. I know that God DOES sometimes give us more than we can handle. This is by no means a sudden epiphany. It has come slowly over the years, draping itself over my shoulders, sometimes bowing me with its weight.
The winter wind blows, and I know how to open my arms to it so that its chill seems to soften just a bit. But lets be honest here-there are winds that will freeze you to death no matter how you stand, unless you get away from them. Unless you CAN get away from them. For a long time, I found this truth to be a deeply horrific, sobering thought: Some beings' circumstances, God help them, never allow them an opportunity for a good life. I have fretted forever over the inconceivable truth that many children, born into war torn, famine ravaged, insane places, will never have the principles of abundance, the power of positive thinking, or even applied willpower effect a change of their lot in life. And the plight of animals and nature? Well, lets not even go there.
My dear new husband, Carter, is plagued with many chronic, compounding health problems (One of the possible pitfalls of marrying when you are more than half a century old). Our days are dictated by what he can and can't do in any given hour. For the past year or more, our weeks have revolved around doctor visits. Our future plans are geared toward managing health crises. This dilemma has no happy resolution at its core. Granted, we don't live in a refugee camp, nor are we beaten and starved daily, but it is still a difficult, unending challenge for both of us. I am certain that you all have your own capes of difficulty pulled around your shoulders, or had, or will have.
Certainly, we bring much of the calamity of life down upon us by our decisions and choices along the way, but many of our trials are not of our making. We are not so powerful as to have created every good and bad thing in our lives. I chose Carter knowing of his medical issues. It does not mean, however, that in this choosing, I can make the problems go away. Many of us choose to take on difficulties for the good of loved ones, and not every unsolvable conundrum is forced upon us involuntarily.
When I find myself in the middle of a problem that I cannot get around, under, all the way through, or beyond, I find that the world has given me some good tools for simply getting by. These tools are exemplified in nature, and she unfolds them in front of our very eyes and ask only that we watch and learn. Perhaps the wind storm that overtakes me at any given time is the killing one that may eventually freeze me to death, but standing in it with my arms out and leaning into it really DOES make the cold seem more manageable.Try it.
We tend to think of the word "surrender" in negative terms-the white truce flag and such that culturally means we've lost-but surrender is life-giving and life-affirming. When faced with what is, there is nothing else we can sensibly do but surrender to it. I mean, what is, is, right? Surrender is really a very intelligent survival strategy, and if we survive, how can that mean we've lost? Surrender doesn't mean quit. It just means let go, or to stop resisting.
When I watch a raging Indiana storm from my back deck, I see that there are always breaks in the wind, even if they are brief. Nature assures me that, whether I believe it or not, there are always instants of respite in the storm. And while the center of the gale, I can choose to stand beside others like birds do, and we can tell goofy jokes to one another other while our teeth chatter, and laugh until our stomachs ache, and hold hands, and hug. We'll all last longer for it. Just ask a penguin. Sometimes, even though it is not to be expected, there is miracle and mystery at the heart of the killing storm, and we suddenly find ourselves being mysteriously directed to a shelter from the cold that never existed before that very moment.
My mother is one of the most blessed women I have ever known. Except for the death of my father after their long and happy marriage, she's skirted most of the tragedies common in a human life. Curiously, she is also one of the most fundamentally unsatisfied people I know. It's a mystery to me. She worries over me and my circumstances and says, "How are you doing these days, Honey, really?" She knows that finances are tough and my own health has been delicate for many years. She knows that the move to Indiana was stressful in body and soul to me even though I chose it and wanted it and it has been for the good. In the past, I would be telling her all the reasons why "bad" things were happening to me and overwhelming me. These days, In the midst of a new kind of Midwest winter, I say, "You know, Mom, it's really okay. It's just life stuff. Just life, you know?" And she says she knows.
The harshness of the winter journey suddenly becomes less so as I lean into it and understand that it is not the demon come to get me. It is life, just life, and she gives me the most curiously wrapped surprises at the most unexpected times. Best to keep may hands out and open, because you just never know.