The Next Road We Travel

I hope you'll indulge me in a personal story.

In early May, my wife Michelle had an accident and was severely burned. It’s been two months now, which I still find incredibly hard to believe. A lot of the time, I’m not sure I do. The whole thing has been surreal, hard to comprehend, and the road ahead is long. The event will be life-changing, for her, for me, and for our two teenagers.

Maybe it’s too early to draw lessons. As Michelle’s recovery progresses, I trust the good God intends will become clearer. But I’ve picked up a few things already that feel worth sharing, for my own sanity if nothing else. Perhaps they’ll resonate with others, and if they do, it’s worth a few minutes to set them down.

Here’s what's hit me about all this, as early as we are in navigating the healing process:

• We aren’t in control. As much as we’d like to know what comes next, we don’t. We make our plans, and things get in the way that send us down a different path, sometimes innocuous, sometimes scary, sometimes painful. We make decisions virtually every moment of our lives, and even our most well-informed, rational choices don’t always produce the results we intend. We can influence, but we can’t guarantee. Other people choose too, and sometimes they don’t do what we’d like. And then there’s the “unexpected,” like my wife’s accident. It happens, a lot.

• We think we’re strong, but we’re fragile. I like to think I can handle whatever’s thrown at me. I’ve also learned, quite clearly, that’s not the truth. I’m not always strong enough on my own. Some things are simply too big to carry alone. That’s quite unsettling. It’s also why there are therapists, and why we need faith in God to be our rock when things get tough. By ourselves, we can be fragile when the chips are down. “Letting go” is hard and, too often, it’s seen as a sign of weakness. Asking for help, however, isn’t bad. When we do, we can get through a lot more.

• Resilience is critical, but so is docility. “Resilience” is a modern buzzword. The ability to “bounce back,” to pick ourselves up and get back to it, adapting to new situations, is certainly very important in life. But when we’re dusting ourselves off and get ready to move on, where exactly are we moving to? When we’ve chosen a path in life and hit a roadblock, it isn’t always clear what to do even when were ready to do it. We have to be open to all possibilities and listen to what we trust in to guide us, without any guarantees. Whatever we do, it will take some serious faith.

• We’re one step away from being the people we help. As a non-profit consultant, I’ve spent my career working to elevate people who are down and need some help getting up. Like many of my peers, I’m sympathetic, and I want to help. What this situation with my wife, and its impacts on my family, has driven home is that “they” could just as easily be us. The line I’d quietly drawn between the helper and the helped was never really there. We’re not above anyone. We are all, in the end, “survivors of circumstances.” This gives me perspective, and empathy.

• There are so many people willing to step up. Human beings can be quite frustrating, but they can also be very generous. The many friends, acquaintances, and friends of friends who have supported us through prayers and thoughts as well as financially, are amazing. And that’s just to us. There are so many people rising to the occasion every single day, giving of themselves in one form or another to help both neighbors and complete strangers through rough times, as well. This experience has really brought that fact home, and it reinforces in my mind what I'm supposed to do.

I recently heard a priest’s homily on Robert Frost’s famous poem about two roads diverging in a wood. It’s actually Frost making fun of a friend who, when they took walks together, always chose the routes he thought would lead to unique and spectacular sites. When they didn’t deliver, his friend ended up disappointed.

The question for all of us is when we hit an obstacle—when there’s a roadblock, or when we see what we’ve hoped for isn’t actually there—how will we respond? I think we bushwhack our way to another path, be open to help, and be okay not knowing where the heck it goes. It may not be “according to plan,” but we’ll be just fine.

Thanks for reading. If any of this resonates with you, and/or if you're going through a difficult situation yourself, feel free to contact me.