I have clung to the word Hope. It has a deep meaning, but one that perhaps means different things for us all. I think about a quote from the movie Shawshank Redemption:
"Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies"
I hold strong to something I can't see. A feeling that seems innate in us all- a desire to persevere through the hardest of times and come out on the other side. The thing is, we don't come out unscathed; there are scars that we all have even if we can't see them.
2020 has meant that we've had to make choices and a lot of them to make. Choices to choose family over work, or work sometimes with family clinging to our backs (literally and figuratively). Choices to abide by government decisions when we weren't given options, choices to choose friends that really support us or drop them if they don't. Choices to mourn losses that we didn't see coming or push them deep into our bowels to deal with another day. Another day when we feel stronger. Sometimes that's today and sometimes it's just not. Choices. I can't count how many. I don't want to.
When I started writing this I looked up the exact quote from the movie and I was hit with this one too:
"Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane."
I have only thought of hope to be a good thing. Hand in hand with faith. But, when I read this I understood what he meant. I fundamentally understand the ramifications of that hope. It's the desire to do something only to know that maybe deep down it wasn't the right choice. It's the decisions we make even though we know it's the wrong path, yet we take it anyway. We go forward in hope so true and pure that we can't stop even when we may say it's time to step back. Sometimes it's all we can think about...
So what are we to do? Stop hoping? Stay stagnant? Become indifferent? Go numb? Mindless? Ordinary?
In six weeks Marley will have another surgery. She will have a muscle removed from her inner thigh and transplanted to her forearm. I think there will be some addressing of her fingers. It's quite a doozy. In a conversation we discussed what our outcome will be. I put it like this:
"If we can't have a hand that works and looks like her left hand, then can we have a hand that works? If we can't have a hand that works like her left hand, then can the fingers move? If we can't have fingers that move, can we have her pinch? If we can't have her pinch, can she be fixed to the "C" position? If we can't have that, can she be fixed to a paddle position. And if we can't have that, then do we amputate?"
She has a scar that spans her whole right side down her back. She has a scar that goes all the way down her tricep. She has multiple scars all over her forearm and hand on her right side. She has shaving marks that are all over her right thigh. And now, she will have a scar that spans her whole inner thigh.
She is scathed with scars. I would be lying if I didn't say that I hope that one day she understands the all consuming, drive a man insane "Hope" I feel for her. Hope that she loves me. Hope that she loves herself. Hope that she believes we made the right decisions. Hope that she knows I would do anything.
Anything... Anything.
I can do hard things. I can make hard choices. And above all I don't want to repress the hard times. I don't want to go numb. As difficult as it may be, sometimes insane hope is worth it. Because without that we are lost. We have no joy that encompasses all else. It would be all for nothing. So, I will cling to all kinds of hope today. And today, I have hope in humanity. I do. I have insane hope that we will make it out of 2020 and be better for it.
But, please, please, please for the love of our God remember- we will ALL have scars, even if you don't see them.
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