The year was two thousand and five. A few days after Thanksgiving, the 27th,
was the day of THE call. Unlike the
previous calls, this one led to the beginning of the end. The end of waiting. This was the day, the call, that led to a
liver transplant.
The years have flown by, and the initial anxiety of being
afraid of everyone with a little cough has subsided. I have caught colds and recovered from
them. There have been consequences of
the medications, including diabetes, which angered me to no end when I was
diagnosed back in 2009. I'm over that
now though. There are other ills in
this body, but 2014 has been a good year by and large.
Nine years.
It feels like so much has happened since then, yet not so
much at the same time.
I’d like to be able to say that I’ve had some great impact
on the world, giving meaning to the extended years so graciously given to
me. I wish I could say that every day
has been treated as the gift that it truly is.
I’d like to say that I’m a better person for knowing how fragile life
can be. Sadly, I don’t think I can make
any of those claims.
In a strange way, the ability to take life for granted from
time to time is an amazing blessing. I
don’t have to fight every single day to be well. I’m not “ill” in the full meaning every day. I live a pretty darn good life. I have more medical appointments that most,
but it’s not so terrible. I do have a
bunch of health issues that need to be monitored, but I’m doing well. I’m doing well enough, that the doctors’
appointments are bothersome and get in the way of doing things I’d rather be
doing – even if that may just be ‘work’ on some days.
So, I pause today, and think over the past year, as I’ve
always done as this blessed anniversary comes around. I pause and think of the wonderful family
that suffers in their remembrances during this time of year. I do not forget them. I do not forget Jack. Jack’s part of me and our liver is our link
to one another, and to his remarkable family.
I pause and think of what’s to come, and do sometimes wonder
when my luck will run out, and what will be my legacy. It’s a weighty question, but no longer scares
me. I am what I am, and in the long run
I expect that there will be little lasting impact. That’s just being honest. In a world of billions of people, what has my
life produced in the grand scheme of things?
I ponder that last sentence, it’s been sitting there in the
recesses of my hard drive waiting to be recalled and edited. It stares at me seeking to be answered. It waits for a more honest pause.
The synapses flash, and fill my mind with differing
thoughts. I think of the miracle stories
in the Bible, and it occurs to me that
the miracles of new health, of the blind being able to see and the deaf being
able to hear, have no further story of how those cured lived the rest of their
lives. Did they just go about the
ordinary day to day existence or was theirs a fate to be lived in the scrutiny
of their own expectations. Were they rescued
with a purpose to perform some great feat, or simply to live out their days as
good citizens? Was their purpose to be a symbol of God’s greatness, that even
in their ordinary existence that God came down to heal them simply because he
could, and that was his desire? So you
might argue that in the scheme of things what they helped to produce was
faith. Faith, as meaning that some other person may come to believe
that they too could be healed. I’m not
sure there’s a better gift to leave to this world. Faith. From Faith, comes hope, and with hope the
ability to love, and with love anything is possible.
So, maybe I can try to answer that grand question of what
has my life produced in the grand scheme of things. Yet maybe not, maybe it’s not for me to know.
The Butterfly Effect. The premise is that even a
ridiculously small change to a system can yield remarkably different outcomes
in the distant future. The story is that
a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a hurricane weeks later on distant
shores. Maybe that’s how our lives work.
Maybe a word of encouragement will lead
a young person to stick with studying science and they become the next great
surgeon, and they in turn operate on the President of the US. Maybe it’s even simpler and that when we show
love to someone it leads them to be more loving. Maybe our little act of generosity leads to
more generosity.
Maybe my life is simply about living life to the best of my
ability. That’s a wide open statement of
course too, but maybe the video by One Republic, “I lived” will tell the story. It shows how one young man with Cystic
Fibrosis lives each day fully, while recognizing the hardships and his short
life expectancy. I think this is really
about courage, courage to face our adversities in spite of the fears.
Maybe my life is most productive when I simply share a story
and some photos of what I see in the world.
Recognizing the beauty and sharing it with others, maybe this is enough.
Nine years.
Nine years of faith, hope, beauty, and small gestures of
generosity, a bit of courage and love, as imperfect as they may have been,
maybe that’s enough.
I hope so, for that’s
all I have.
How about you? How have you last nine years been?
Blessings,
Brian
