The Unfairness of Life

Often we don’t understand why things happen the way they do. I mean it doesn’t make sense when one is healed and another one isn’t. I know I struggled with this for many years. I could never figure out why God would take a 36-year-old man away from his family. But then I would. hear stories of how God healed others in similar situations. It just didn’t make any sense.

I wrestled with this well into my adult years. A seven-year-old can only understand so much. And to be honest, there is still a mystery in it all for a fifty-three-year-old.

The issue I wrestled with the most was the unfairness of it all. It just didn’t seem right to me that God would take my Daddy away from his family, especially considering my brother was only nine months old. Sometimes it still doesn’t seem right but what I’ve discovered is that there is nothing fair in this life. Life does not delve out the same thing to each one of us and we must learn to take what’s given to us and make something from it. Like the old proverb says, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” The problem is sometimes we get stuck and moving forward and moving on feels almost impossible. Instead of wondering about the big picture, maybe we just need to remember to put one foot in front of the other. It’s a one step at a time mentality.

My biggest hangup for years was that I would move forward and then I’d fall off the rails. I felt defeated and it seemed that I had made no forward progress. What I didn’t realize then was that I was not going backward, I just needed more time to process before continuing to move forward. Because I felt defeated, I refused to move at all. This constituted a lot of anguish and unnecessary grief not just for me but for others around me. In fact, at times, I felt like I was the only person in the world who had ever been through losing a parent at a young age. I most certainly was not but when you’re stuck, not only do you feel that way, but you give others the impression and implication you feel that way. And guess what? It’s really hard to help someone who feels defeated and cheated by life.

This is where the rubber met the road for me when I realized that I felt defeated because I felt cheated. I felt cheated because I had not grown up with the man I called Daddy. I felt cheated because all of my memories of him were limited because of my age. I felt cheated because my life didn’t look nor feel like those around me.

Friends, that is why I stayed stuck for a long time. But here’s the thing, no one but me could change the way I felt. My grandparents, parents, friends, extended family. No. No. No. I had to be the one to change the way I felt. I had to start looking at things differently. And to be quite honest, it wasn’t until the birth of my first child, that I began to view life differently. Why the sudden change?

As life was growing and forming inside me, my spirit was awakened and renewed by God. I realized that I had a need and no one but God could meet that need. That’s when I decided to make a change. A change that would not happen outwardly for a long time and still has a long way to go but a change that would transform me on the inside. A change that would eventually help me to see that I wasn’t cheated at all. No, I was given another man who would take exceptionally good care of me and my siblings. A man who would love my mother and delight in her. A man who would teach me that whatever you do, don’t do it halfway, give 100 % of yourself 100% of the time. (A lesson I hope to never forget) A man who would love my children, his grandchildren, as much or more than my biological Daddy would have. I wasn’t cheated at all….I was given far more than I deserved.

My life is messy. It will always be messy. There will always be times when life seems unfair and there will be times that I will again feel cheated. But as Martin Luther King, Jr said so eloquently, “I may not be the man I want to be; I may not be the man I ought to be; I may not be the man I could be; I may not be the man I truly can be; but praise God, I’m not the man I once was.”

Maybe you too have felt that defeated and cheated by things that have happened to you, circumstances far beyond your control or maybe by poor choices you’ve made. Maybe life has given you a bunch of lemons and they’re hard to squeeze but you’re the only one who can squeeze the lemon. Maybe you have to take it one section at a time and maybe that section is so small it seems pointless but the idea is to squeeze it little by little until you make your own lemonade.

The Thread of Hope

As I reflect on 2021, one word comes to mind. Hope.

In January I decided that Hope would be my word for the year. No resolutions to break within the first few weeks. No promises were made to others I could not keep. Just simply the word “HOPE”.

Hope that transcends the darkest of days. Hope that holds you together when your world is falling apart. Hope that tomorrow will be better than today. Hope because it’s the red thread that God weaves throughout the contents of the Bible.

January 1, 2021, rolled around Terry and I were recovering from COVID. Finally, on January 7, we were well enough to travel to Charleston and have Christmas with our family. And so, Christmas happened in January with health restored and hope for a brand new year.

We welcomed February with some special celebrations. Amy’s 23rd birthday and Mom’s 75 birthday. We also celebrated Alex’s “big boy job”. He was hired by Lennar Homes as an Accounting Coordinator.

On March 6th we had the opportunity to go see Amy complete in her first track meet as a Charleston Southern Buccaneer. We were simply thankful to go because there was much uncertainty with COVID restrictions. During that meet, she was disappointed in her performance but hope was born because she was coming out of a 12 week back injury.

In April, we attended a few more track meets and watched live scoring online for those we could not attend. Each meet she improved, it was a steady improvement and her back was holding steady and there was hope for a good ending to her collegiate career.

In May her collegiate career ended with a first-place finish in the Shot Put in the Big South. She finished in the top 10 of all four events and was the only thrower for Charleston Southern competing in all four events. While this was a big deal, she was feeling disappointed because her numbers were not quite good enough to qualify for NCAA regionals. Then came the realization that college athletics had come to an end. But not all hope was lost, she continued her classes through the summer and began the hunt for a job.

In June we made several trips to Charleston and we met a very special couple who had graciously taken Amy under their wings and had become her “Charleston family”. During June, a condo in Mom’s neighborhood came on the market, and Aunt Trisha fell in love with it. Now, there was the hope of her moving here, being closer to her family especially Mom.

July ushered in a job for Amy and shoulder surgery for Ryan. Within the first few weeks of Amy’s job, she knew it was not the right fit for her but she trekked on. Ryan’s shoulder surgery was successful and we had the opportunity to spend a few days with him and Alex. We were also making forward progress with the purchase of Aunt Trisha’s condo.

By early August Amy was actively seeking a new job and Aunt Trisha was beginning her health decline. I too discovered a spot on my nose, which turned out to be squamous cell carcinoma and required surgery. Immediately following my surgery, Aunt Trisha was transported via helicopter to Wake Forest Baptist Hospital. The week following on August 20, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, an inoperable tumor, and had a gastric bypass in hopes of allowing food to pass through. The surgery was a huge success but her body didn’t immediately cooperate. However, the doctors always assured us there was hope. We even closed on her condo the day before her big surgery. Now, she had a home in Hendersonville. And also, Alex was promoted to Staff Accountant. So, even amid some difficulties hope remained.

By September, Aunt Trisha was still up and down. She remained in the hospital through September 16 until she was ready to begin rehabilitation. Amy was offered a job as a recruiter at High Hampton. I picked Aunt Trisha up from rehab on September 27 and brought her to her new home in Hendersonville. She was thrilled with her new place and thought it was just “perfect” for her.

In October we celebrated Amy’s new job and move with her “Charleston family”. At the same time, Aunt Trisha was taken back the hospital. This time with pancreatitis. She was kept in a holding room in the ER at Advent Hospital until they had a room available for her at Wake Forest. When she was finally taken back to Wake Forest, they found another blockage and had to perform another surgery. During this surgery, she bottomed out three times on them. They resuscitated her with fluids all three times which caused her to be placed in ICU for several days. About mid-October, she went back to rehab for less than 24 hours and returned to the hospital only to have another surgery to untwist her bowel. However, the doctors kept hope alive by telling her she had no further blockage and should be eating normally soon.

On November 2 she was released for rehab again. Things were improving for her. She had regained mobility and was working hard to regain balance. Her food intake was slow but she was eating. She was looking forward to her appointment with Dr. Shen on November 30 for him to see her good progress but sadly she wound up back in the hospital on November 28. For her, hope seemed to be fleeting for life here on earth but her eternal hope never waned. And all the while, I watched as she grew weaker and wearier, I clung to the hope that God had been and would continue to be merciful to her and His faithfulness would be evident.

December came like a whirlwind, on December 1, Aunt Trisha decided to allow Hospice to take over and on December 2, she was transported to Elizabeth House in Hendersonville. In the evening hours of December 4, God called her home. God was merciful and God was gracious to her. Just as I had hoped and prayed. During the month, we celebrated 3 birthdays and an anniversary, and Christmas. On Christmas Eve we took Mom with us to church for a beautiful Christmas Eve service. Then she took us all to one of our favorite local restaurants, The Hare and Hound, for Terry’s birthday. Christmas Day was wonderful and so warm we sat on the porch for several hours and just enjoyed our day. At the close of December, we found ourselves back in Charleston…the same place we began 2021. This time to celebrate with our sons who were not able to come home for Christmas and also celebrate the engagement of Matthew and Lindsey. And so there it is, the thread of hope weaved throughout the year.

There are always going to be moments of disappointment and some may come with deep and sometimes seemingly utter despair but what I’ve learned throughout the past year is that hope is alive. It is living and active. Sometimes it comes in big waves and sometimes it’s a small as a grain of sand. Hope is that one word that promises a better tomorrow because hope looks forward with anticipation. But there is only one true source of hope and my hope has a name, Jesus. He is Hope for all who truly believe.

“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.” Hebrews 10:23