Beech Tree News Network

NOT A MISTAKE-At times in this column I may have mentioned the fact that I have often felt out of place in this world, all the way up to the point of wondering if I really belong in it at all, or if I might have slipped through the cracks as some kind of cosmic mistake, just biding my time, with no real purpose. Some of that feeling probably comes from living with the results of some poor choices and downright stupid decisions on my part (like not going on to college). A lot of it though, was sort of just thrown at me and I had no real control over it (like getting cancer at a relatively young age.)

Part of that feeling also may be the result of never developing the “thick-skin” which seems to be so prized in our society. Feeling things more intensely or having a, “sensitive soul” is not really the blessing you might expect it to be. Getting through life would be less complicated if one could just, “let it slide, like water off a ducks back” or “just get over it” but for the most part, how you respond to situations and circumstances is built in to your character from the start and you have no definitive choice in the matter.

For just a couple of years, after I gained a little size and coordination, I tried to compensate, by pulling off a bada## routine but it really wasn't me, at the core of who I am. Now, I still have no use for wimps, I admire strength, both physically and of character. Toughness is something to be admired and aspired to but when it comes to feelings and emotions, being right under the surface and easily attainable, that is something I have had to work hard at not being ashamed of.

Not feeling like a mistake of fate or the universes joke, is also something I have had to work hard at; I have succeeded at times but failed at times too. I have also found that looking into the eyes of my children and by that I mean, glimpsing the soul of another human being, who is like me but also very different and unique, has helped me come to the decision that I was meant to be here, “in such a time as this.” You see, it is through this connection that I learned that life really is about learning to love, about how we all are connected and “loving others as ourselves” is much more profound than just a slick bumper sticker philosophy. The rest of this is going to be in a poetic style about life and love never being a mistake.

NOT A MISTAKE

Was it a mistake to spoil you? To think of you as a gift,

from angels; if not angels yourself.

Could you survive the “silly games” invented by a father,

not altogether living in reality himself?

Might you develop the toughness and tenacity

you would need to survive in a less than kind world?

If we embraced tenderness and playfulness as worthy mentors,

instead of espousing the virtues of structure and discipline,

would you grow strong enough to make it or hide within your own hearts?

Was it a mistake to help too much; did I cripple you with kindness?

I braced your tiny feet in my own two strong hands,

so you could push off and learn to crawl, did you learn too soon?

Was it a mistake to wait longer than most before starting a family?

Sickness caught up, will they remember me always as being weak?

We played catch together, soon learning you're a sidearm, just like me,

not long after, we discovered you learn a lot like me as well?

Was it a mistake to live here , in a place, where learning the way you do,

would always be a struggle? instead of in Goshen, built for learners like us.

As I contemplate the panorama of my life, ideas come to the forefront, time and time again.

I pose questions to God, in the stillness of the night and solitude of my heart.

Was it a mistake to be born into modest means, every one around, that way too?

Was it a mistake to be born outside the realm of academic excellence?

Was it a mistake to live in a home built for a family half our size?

God answers me with a whisper, only I can hear, but the message comes through clear.

How else would you learn empathy for the poor, if you had not lived it?

How else would you gain compassion for the sick, if you had not struggled?

How else would you acquire passion for those who learn differently, if not first hand?

How else would you know about love and the connection of us all,

if you did not glimpse your soul, in the heart of another?