Pardon me while I ramble. Somewhere in these thoughts, maybe you’ll find something of value.
I’m turning 40, and one thing I’ve learned over the years is that life is painful. The older I get, the more I feel it in my body. Youth is fleeting, but it leaves behind a trail of wounds, injuries, and scars in its wake. (Even after I started writing this post, I experienced multiple instances of pain. I kicked a baby gate with my left foot and burned my right arm on the same day. Later in the week, I got bitten by one of our cats on that same arm.) I see life’s pain in our world with all its chaos and uncertainty, especially from just the last 5 years. I also see it in general as I get older; the longer we live, the more we face the loss of loved ones to death or broken relationships.
But that’s life. Life is filled with sadness, pain, and tragedy. In this, it becomes easy to accept the move from rose-colored glasses of childhood to jaded cynicism of adulthood. Because of this, the phrase “faith like a child” means something.
Ironically, our modern cultural is built around pain avoidance, all the while pain is all around us and in some ways reminds us we’re alive. We try to flee it or numb ourselves to it. We want everything to be “safe” and “sanitary,” but that’s not life. That’s existence, but that’s not life. Anyone with a child can tell you life is messy.
It’s not to say that life is just terrible and tragic, full of ugliness and misery. No, while pain is a part of this life, life itself is so much more than a downward doom spiral to the grave. This life is also filled with joy, laughter, and beauty that can’t be described or adequately captured with even the best camera. But these are reminders that pain and suffering aren’t all we have.
Over the last 40 years, the world has changed a lot, each decade abounding with more and more changes, both good and bad. As I look back over the last couple decades, I can see ways I’ve changed and ways I’ve stayed the same. I’ve changed in ways that I might not recognize myself as the person I used to be, but there are also parts that are still me.
In the past decade alone, I’ve experienced pains (some mentioned above) and celebrations. I’ve changed jobs, gotten married, had a child, and recently written a book. Each event an occasion to celebrate.
As I watch my child grow, I get to watch her experience the joy of simplicity, the wonderment of learning, and the trials of childhood. Trials that are trivialities to an adult. She possesses an innocence that seems all but lost in today’s world. Her world is not the big chaotic globe we all trod. It’s the home we live in, the people she knows, and the french fries she eats. She doesn’t yet know how messed up and painful the world is. One of her biggest “afflictions” is a parent disappearing for a few minutes into a room she can’t access. To her, this feels devastating.
Although she’s just starting out in life and I’m much further along, we both can and will experience pain to some degree or another over the years. But we’ll also experience joy and laughter. Somewhere between the two is this chaotic yet beautiful thing we call life.
Edward Antonym 