Monday, March 28, 2011

right now, hard. later, maybe good. who knows?

{a photo of little m from one of my first posts in spring of 2008}

when i was initially writing this blog, in the season when we had first gotten m's diagnosis of profound deafness and my dad left my mom (and ensuing family debacle,) this blog was more like "life is hard, but sometimes good." seemed like a lot more hard than good. i actually remember when my friend francesca commented in surprise at a post that was more good than hard. some seasons are like that- full of the weight and depth of grief or disappointment, or the loss of one's life plan disrupted. lately i feel like a lot of people who i love have been slammed with a change in plans- plans that they wouldn't choose. circumstances that, in my mind, seem all wrong & simply painful with no immediate redemptive reason. 

in 2008 (a year that will go down as mostly a whole lot of sucky,) i would've done anything to escape the shock of deafness, of losing my dad and all of the accompanying aftermath that was connected to losing him. last night i went to my bi-weekly counseling session, and as i drove there, i was thinking through how many personal issues i'd worked through (and continue to work through) in the past three years. some of the issues were just normal ways of coping for me, because i didn't have the tools to choose other ways to respond. in a lot of ways, even though i probably wouldn't choose either of those life detours, the path they have taken me on has made me a healthier, more whole woman, wife, mother, friend, and artist. i don't think it always happens that way. i know people who have gone through loss and who are bitter. besides, i still think the actual situations can remain horrible, without any down-the-road positive spin. but i guess it is really more about who we are becoming as people. 

i read this quote the other day from sadhu sundar singh, an indian christian who lived in the early 20th century:

"A silkworm was struggling out of the cocoon and an ignorant man saw it battling as if in pain, so he went and helped it to get free, but very soon after it fluttered and died. The other silkworms that struggled out without help suffered, but they came out into full life and beauty, with wings made strong for flight by their battle for fresh existence."

as we begin another week, here is to emerging out of our struggles into full life and beauty.


  1. well put:
    here is to emerging out of our struggles into full life and beauty.

  2. I remember watching baby chicks being hatched and feeling like they seemed so fragile and like they needed help. It took like 45 minutes for them to peck just a crack in the shell and I felt like by the time they got their raw little selves all the way out of the egg, Jesus would have returned already. I asked the person showing me the chicks why none of them helped each other, or why no one else around could be moved to help them through this arduous process. The woman looked at my, pityingly, and said "This is all a part of the process. If they don't exercise the muscles they need to when they are pecking at the shell to get out they will never be able to hold their heads up as adults."

    You've worked hard, Sooz. Hold your head up high.

  3. I really, really love that quote. And I'm glad the good is overtaking the hard!

  4. I particularly liked the photo above. Face full of peace. Greetings of friendship.


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