Old books remind me how unusual our ‘normal’ experiences are today.
In The Death of Ivan Ilych, on page 53, is this simple statement:
Though the salary was higher the cost of living was greater, besides which two of their children died and family life became still more unpleasant for him.
It seems very normal for Tolstoy to include that sentence, even in the life of a rising professional with access to doctors and resources in 1880’s Russia.
Yet how strange it seems in our own North American context. We think we know what ‘unpleasant’ means, and that does not include the death of children. We do not consider it normal at all within professional, middle-class families.
Maybe we should.
Buried in an article on a school for children with disabilities was this sentence:
Almost every year, a few medically frail students die.
That has been true at Paul’s school as well. A short, sad announcement from the principle comes home in Paul’s backpack about a student who has died. It isn’t every year. But we have gotten several such notices over the years. In seven years that has not happened even once at the school my other three ‘normally developing’ children attend.
Many people look at our lives, with all the doctors and complications and expense, and consider it strange and to be avoided at every cost. Yet the ‘cost’ of avoiding it is usually the very life of our little one, the one God himself has given us to parent.
And when we look around the world, our ‘abnormal’ existence is experienced by millions and millions of families. It is frequently the very thing that keeps bringing us back to God.
There is something else that seems more normal in old books: the presence of God. I just finished A Narrative of The Mutiny, on Board His Majesty’s Ship Bounty by William Bligh and noted how freely he spoke of prayers and Providence:
For my own part, I consider the general run of cloudy and wet weather to be a blessing of Providence. Hot weather would have caused us to have died with thirst; and perhaps being so constantly covered with rain or sea protected us from that dreadful calamity.
So, though our experiences are abnormal in this culture, maybe we have been granted special insight into what normal life is really like, both historically and for much of the world’s population today. What should we do with that insight?
The Works of God 
Great post, John!
The William Bligh quote reminds me of something I’ve been contemplating lately. Normally, I am someone who craves sunshine. Too many cloudy days make me weary. But I’ve been noticing that it can actually be harder to drive when the sun is shining brightly than when it is overcast. Too much sun leaves me squinting, obstructs my vision by casting glares and exposing all the debris on my windshield. It’s almost too bright to really see anything. In contrast, I feel like I can see more clearly during dreary weather. My face isn’t scrunched from squinting and I can look for obstructions without being blinded. And I thought, isn’t that so like the Christian walk? I know that I see the Lord more clearly during some of the darker (or at least grayer) times of life than when everything seems to be going well.
Good post, I will be pondering it for a while.
I agree with Lucy. Through our daughter, Kimberly, we have learned wonderful truths about the love of our Savior and how much he fights for us, as we fight for her. She is now 15 and her deafness is rarely a thought because of the cochlear implants…except when she can’t hear because the room is too loud or people mumble or whisper. Then we are filled with thoughts of how to intervene, what can we do…hearing loop? FM? But sometimes, she is spared from hearing the malicious whispers and mean things girls say to each other. So we remember that our Savior fought temptation for our salvation, he fought death and won. He fights for us in prayer. and we are largely ignorant of the depths of his love. And we are thankful that he brings light in the darkness and that what Satan has meant for evil, God meant for our good. She stands as a beacon of grace in this dark world, and we are thankful.
You teach me how to be humble. You teach me what real communication feels like when you say that her deafness is rarely a thought. You are so right, we are ignorant of the depths of Gods love for us but he loves us so much…god bless you.
We sometimes bicker and complain about our own condition when there are others who have no food to eat, don’t even know where they are going to sleep, people who are suffering while trying to survive war and famine..people who have lost loved ones and who have special needs children to care for…and what do we do, we complain about our sad lives. We get angry at parents and friends and inlaws and kids and bosses. I always have to ask for forgivness for my complaining and pettiness. This does not mean that we should never strive for better, nor does it mean that we will become perfect but the least that we can do is to give god the credit for every little and big blessing that he gives us and sing or draw or write or paint or work or even play for his glory and not just our own. And remember to give all of our struggles to him to work out for our good. God really does love us even inspite of ourselves. All praises go to HIM. He is our real identity.