We will recover

Humans are resilient. We have the ability to recover from illness, change or misfortune. We can be stretched, pulled, compressed and bent in multiple directions and yet retain our original shape. We survive. There is an internal strength that we all have, whether we’ve had to use it or not. It is the lifeboat waiting to carry us to safety when the ship sinks.

I have seen this amazing quality displayed repeatedly. When I was pregnant with my oldest daughter, my grandmother was diagnosed with colon cancer. She was rushed in for emergency surgery and told that if she did not undergo chemotherapy she would not survive more than a few years. She chose not to have further treatment. Somehow, thirteen years later, she is not only surviving, she is thriving.

An adored friend of mine was diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer. She underwent almost a year of chemotherapy and radiation. All around her (myself included) soon realized just how wimpy we were and how vigorous she was. She handled the ordeal with grace and determination. The last time I saw her, she looked beautiful. She had been stretched and pulled, but bounced back to who she was before.

Some things are not optional. The only way we survive is by trudging through the swamp and not giving up along the way. It may be the most difficult thing we will ever endure, and we may not think we can last another day, but somehow we do. The hard times soon become a distant memory and we look back, amazed that we are still alive. We find strength that had been there all along and it gives us confidence that, whatever the future holds, we will recover.

Struggle transforms

It seems that things often work out, for a reason beyond our comprehension. The things we fight and deny are the same things we need the most. I have seen a golden thread spun out of many bad situations. Perhaps you would rather avoid the grief; but if you can’t, at least you can let it mold you.

The last time I had dinner with my family, I felt overwhelming gratitude. I was happy and content. Sadly, it has taken me many years and much struggle to reach this point, but I have finally found peace. My husband asked me later, “Would you have believed ten years ago that you would feel this way?” Not a chance!

My dad’s death has opened many doors for his wife. I am sure she would have preferred to avoid the sadness of his loss, but she couldn’t. The choices she has made since his death are probably not the same ones she would have made before his death. She has taken a bad situation and found the golden thread.

Being an awkward child, I fought learning how to ride my bike. I was content running after all the kids on our block as they glided around on their bicycles. Finally my family had enough and I was forced to learn something most children can’t wait to master. It took much patience, and quite a few tears—mostly from those trying to teach me—but I finally got it. After all the struggle, my life improved. Something that had seemed impossible now was effortless.

Life can be the same way. We instinctively recoil when a difficulty is placed in our lap. As if it were a snake, we panic and push it away, pretending it doesn’t exist. We try to get as far away as possible. But this often just prolongs the agony. Struggling is an indicator that we are under construction. It means that we are changing and learning, not only about things around us, but about our own strength. It may require patience and quite a few tears, but after all the struggle, something that seemed impossible will become effortless. We will emerge like butterflies, amazed at our own capacity to transform.