The question was asked in church today: how do you prepare for the unknowable, the un-prepare-for-able.
The usual answers were bandied around, like, this is how we’re ready for the next earthquake, etc etc. I started to laugh, and the Sunday School teacher’s face lit up and she started to walk towards me holding out the mic in her hands–but I, wanting not to be boring, wanting not to state what seemed so obvious to me and that I knew they all knew anyway, really, just kind of waved her away with a “Don’t GO there!” The room, full of old friends and newer ones, broke out laughing.
I instantly regretted it, though. Yes, actually, I did have something to say. I am, however, better at writing it than saying it out loud, so here you go:
The only way you can be ready for whatever life might throw at you is to already have had it throw some of it at you. Experience counts.
Experience is only a small part of it.
It’s who we are. Who, I should say, we choose to be. Every day. In the little details. It adds up. The little decisions, the little interactions with others, the little reactions to setbacks and how we deal with the aftermath (including of our own making). A sense of humor is essential. If our focus is on ourselves–and the really, really hard part about illness is not to get so wrapped up in dealing with it that we’re too focused too inward too often–then we’re not prepared for the next blow.
But if we take each thing life throws at us in terms of, okay, God, I know You love me, I know You say You won’t give me anything we can’t handle together but this part really does seem a bit much to me right now and do You suppose You could trust me just a little less with this testing thing right now? But after that initial reaction, if we go, okay. What am I supposed to learn from this. Is there some way I can turn it around to be a blessing to someone else.
Then, I say, we stay open to the possibilities around us and no matter what our circumstances may be we are fully alive.
Then, I say, we are prepared.