"God grant me the serenity . . ."

"People are made of flesh and blood, and a miracle fiber called courage."

In an earlier post entitled "For all sad words of tongue and pen . . .", I expounded upon the fact that we sadly know so little about someone until we read their "life story" in their funeral (still don't like that word) memorial. How many times have we bemoaned what we felt was a catastrophic event in our own lives only to learn that our path is fairly smooth compared to many. Well, in church this morning a freight train ran smack into me. A woman (who shall remain unnamed) had the courage to tell her story to our large congregation. I had gone along knowing this woman as a happy, feel-good person with a friendly and outgoing manner, knowing nothing about the underlying currents in her life, nor what compels her to be who she is. She isn't the type to simply tell you. This morning's sermon was "Shattered Faith". Pastor Irvin "interviewed" her regarding a horrific event that could have shattered her faith. And I dare say that it certainly would have shattered the faith of a lesser person. Many years ago, her husband and her adopted daughter were shot and killed by her adopted son who was an alcoholic. He was 21. The rest of the details aren't important for this blog. What is important? That I reaffirm my long ago promise to think less about my own woes and remember there are people in this world carrying much heavier baggage than I am. That's not an easy thing to do sometimes. When Pastor invited people to the altar who might have troublesome issues in their own life, I was so humbled by this story that I didn't go. Other than a somewhat worrisome financial future, my life has been more than I could ask for. And right now, at this very moment in time, I'm happy and content. Yes, that could be shattered by an unexpected event, but I can't let thoughts of that guide where I'm going. My losses have made me a much humbler and more forgiving person. I didn't think consciously about that. It just happened. And it grows daily. I no longer scoff at homeless people, or sneer at someone with an evil look about them, or let someone's rudeness bother me. It's their story, and only mine to ponder. We know not what is in that little dash between a person's birth and death that drives them, or where they've been, or where they're going, and how it connects with us. It is what it is, but it's up to each one of us to make an effort to understand.

"Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending."

"Now Is Forever"  -- from a friend of mine