“I know: there is someone waiting for me, who will not give me up, who goes ahead of me, who lifts me up, someone to whom I am important.” Juergen Moltmann
It’s been over a decade (closer to 15 years) since I was on a different career trajectory. In those days I desperately wanted to make my life meaningful, to know that I was doing the best of my ability to make an impact on this world. As I peer through time I have so much empathy for the Robert trying his very best to construct a path for himself that others would be proud of. Despite the chaos of my upbringing I was desperate to make something meaningful out of ashes.
“There is so much hope in your future.”
One day, I turned to a friend and uttered those words. I knew that he was wrestling with some major decisions and he was weighed down by the implications of his choices. I couldn’t fix anything that he was going through, but I tried to give him a listening ear and a glimmer of hope. I find toxic positivity to be abhorrent. Truly. I have experienced pain so excruciating that I could not get out of bed because of despair. During some of those moments, I’m lying…the majority of those moments, I would encounter people who would tell me to think positively. To not question God’s purposes. That everything would be perfectly fine if I had enough faith. Naive positivity is not salvific and it doesn’t make grief go away.
What is funny to me is that the words I uttered to a friend all those years ago still anchor me. Many days, in the womb of the morning, before the sun comes up, I whisper these words to myself. Often the tears begin to stream down my face as I remember how far I’ve come. I never thought I could have the life that I’m currently living. I know that to many I would be a failure. No large amount of money in the bank. The only investments I have are the many piles of books that adorn my small apartment. I am pursuing a doctorate that some would scoff at. But, it’s my life and I’m proud. On those weary days, hope was a dim light that helped me find my way in the darkness. I didn’t perish. My sincere desire for all those reading this is that you would take a few moments to see how far you’ve come. In the darkest times of your life you learned how to play in the dark, to find yourself in the dark, and to keep walking. This week will have its fears and its pressures. There will also be glimmers of beauty.
As you get ready for the week, here is a collaborative piece that I was honored to do with
:
“But, it’s my life and I’m proud.”
Yup that’s it. That’s success. 🖤
This speaks to me deeply Robert, thanks for sharing. I’ve been reflecting lately on how the often circular nature of healing and growth can make it seem like nothing has changed, but when I pause and look back, I can see that I’m not where I used to be (in a good way). And I hear you on not having a life others would consider successful but loving it all the same. I’ve been working on coming to peace with my small and simple life, and I’m starting to see the beauty in it.