Ordinarily, I don’t quote the bible because I think it’s pretentious to do so. (Also, growing up Catholic impressed upon me I was too stupid to understand what the “good book” said in the first place. Reading the bible was only for “trained personnel” like priests and nuns.) But today, when I saw this quote, I had to pass it on because it fit what I’ve been experiencing this week.
If you’ve been following me through this journey of the world of “have nothing,” you know I’ve been humbled. I’ve had to accept help from sources I never thought I would have tap. (Like energy assistance to keep warm, and food stamps to put nourishment on our dining table, and prescription help to keep Ken functioning.)
Before these last three years, I’ve been competent, strong, and successful, achieving top honors in most everything I’ve ever done. So, now when I have to swallow my pride and accept help from others, I get a big lump in my throat. I feel like I have to choke. It drains me to know that I’m not as strong as I thought I was. It humbles me to know that I’m not as smart as I thought I was. I’ve come to realize being humble is a hard job.
Asking for help all of the time is exhausting. . . only because my pride gets in my way. My true friends have proved again and again they are an army standing beside me, ready to spring into action. They hold me up when I can’t stand on my own any longer. Their generosity overwhelms me with humility, and the words, “Thank You” hardly seem adequate. They help me see there is light at the end of the tunnel and it isn’t yet another train coming to mow me down.
And to you, my loyal followers, I say thanks, too. Somehow it’s helpful to know that this journey is followed by others who care. From my worn-out living room chair, blogging has opened my world to terrific folks who think I have something worthwhile to say.
The most wonderful thing about this journey is knowing someday these experiences, along with the feelings that go with them, will manifest into new characters for my stories and novels. They will be richer and complex because I know how it feels to fall from a pinnacle.
And believe me, it’s not the fall that’s bad, but the landing is hard; and deciding to either get up and carry on or to lie there and give up is the dilemma we all have to face, isn’t it?