I sat looking through the bleak diamonds of a chain link fence. My daughter stood on the other side, maybe 30 feet away. I couldn’t do anything to help her. What a helpless sensation. That feeling hurts.

It was nighttime and there were bright lights shining. She was at bat for her softball team and staring down a pitcher at least six inches taller than her. They were both ten years old. There are some disparities in physical development that go with the territory of youth sports. Not to mention, just because someone grew tall quickly doesn’t mean she’s in control yet.

Taking the Hit

The pitch hit my daughter right in her side just below her ribs. There was some juice on that ball and it looked like it hurt. You can see it in action here:

So yeah, that looked painful. I stopped recording video right then because I was more worried about my daughter. She continued to writhe in pain like that for about 30 more seconds. She stayed on her feet though, and she didn’t cry.

Then she hobbled to her base.

I wanted to rush over there and grab her. I felt the instinct, the primal desire, to protect my little baby cub. To be clear, I wasn’t upset with the pitcher at all—she was a 10-year old girl too. The hit was unintentional and that happens in softball at our level pretty often. All I wanted was to make sure my little girl was okay.

One of the most frustrating parts of the whole experience was that I physically couldn’t have made it to her in time to do anything. The gate through the chain link fence was on the other side of the dugout, probably 20 to 30 yards away from where the spectators sit.

So instead, I got to watch it all happen, powerless to do anything.

Thankfully, she was fine, other than a little soreness that night. By the next day she was as good as new. But I started thinking about that moment and what it did to me, and why I reacted as I did.

Life Hurts

That little event caused me to reflect about life in general, from a wider perspective. In a way, it seemed to relate to our lives.

My daughter knows how to play softball and she knows how to hit. She was ready for a pitch to come her way. When a bad pitch comes, she knows to let it go, and when it’s a good one, she swings. Her stance is good, her swing is strong and consistent, and she stares down the pitcher with a teensy (just a smidgen) of fire. That’s how you do it.

More than once she’s dodged errant pitches too. This wasn’t the first time she’s had one come her way. But in spite of all of that, in spite of the practice, both with her team and one-on-one in the backyard, and in spite of her skill, there wasn’t a thing she could do about that one pitch. It defied everything she had done to prepare.

That’s life. And that phrase is more true than it is sardonic.

There are times when “the pitch” hits you right in the “life,” so to speak. You might be experienced and practiced, savvy with managing all your appointments and tasks. Your stance might be right, balanced checkbook and healthy savings. Maybe you can swing with the best of them, exercising regularly and eating right. When you stare down the tough times, you have fiery glint too, not afraid of change and difficulty.

But the hit might still hurt. It might hit you in a soft spot and drop you right to your knees. And then you look up dazed and wonder what just happened.

What Hurts?

I’ll admit this right now, I haven’t been through everything hard in life. I’ve had my share, but I don’t know if one could consider it a “fair share” or not. Honestly, I think I’ve gotten off easy to this point (which somewhere in the back of my mind makes me a little nervous). But I want to talk about some things that have happened to people I know.

These are the stray pitches that you just can’t escape (note: names changed).

One of my best friends from High School (Lynn) married one of my other best friends (Andrew). We had hung out practically every day since we were sophomores. Lynn and I went to a couple of dances. Andrew and I vegged our brains out on computer games from time to time. They got married in 2000. I moved away from our hometown for my first job but they stayed. After two little kids were born, Lynn was diagnosed with cancer. It wasn’t good and she didn’t have much time. I watched from afar as the Facebook posts came and went, and she only got worse. She passed away recently. What could you do to prepare for that? That one hurts.

Jane and Phil have three beautiful little children. If you were to meet them for the first time, you would think they were pretty much the coolest people you ever knew, witty and fun. What you wouldn’t know was that they actually have four children. One of them lasted less than a single day though, and it is probably one of the hardest days for them. And they get reminded of it year after year now. That’s a tough pitch.

Allen and Deb sold everything they had, moved to a new place, and started a business. It was their dream to own this store they had purchased. They bought a truck and started making deliveries. But the economy sunk, and customers slowly faded. They worked hard and tried to keep it going for almost ten years, but in the end they were left with nothing. So it goes.

Love Hurts

Everyone has either lived through or knows someone who has been through similar experiences. No one is exempt, although the variety of difficulties might be astounding if we ever counted them up. This is where my thinking took me though. Because in considering those anecdotes along with the many others we could share, don’t you start to wonder a little bit?

I took my moment of angst watching my daughter get hit with a softball and wondered about a parent watching their child go through something much more difficult. And what about when you’re watching your child do something of their own accord that is going to lead them right into one of those pitches? How is that for a parent?

That’s hard too. Maybe harder than to live through it.

I wanted to reach through that chain link fence and take the pain away. Just as much, I wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. But I couldn’t do it. When it comes to the very hard things, there are times when the wiser observer wants to pinch hit.

But this is why love hurts. You can’t jump in and do it for them. No pinch hitters most of the time. Instead, you have to sit back in the bleachers and let that pitch go to them. You might have to watch it hit them. And you might have to accept that it’s better that way.

If you don’t, they won’t become stronger, better, or more capable.

Honestly, I think this is how God must feel most of the time. I know a lot of people blame Him for their problems. But don’t you feel like he’s just sitting on his hands wishing he could jump in and do that little thing for you, but He knows better? He knows that for you to become capable of making the next decision, a bigger one that is waiting for you down the road, He has to let you feel some pain right now. Parents do that too.

So when you really love someone, that might mean you see the pitch coming but you don’t do anything about it. And that hurts.

What if it were Easier?

Is life better if it’s easier? I have heard the positive argument to this question many times, often in regards to political discussions, which I try my best to avoid. The best example I can think of is one regarding college tuition. One proponent of free college asked me (rhetorically I assume): don’t you want your kids to have it better than you?

What an interesting question. It’s hard to say no to that one. I don’t think I ever would say no to it. But it’s interesting because I don’t think the implied “yes” relates to the topic. Yes I’d like my kids to have it better than me, but I don’t think that free tuition has anything to do with that. The implication of it is that they are better off if there is less struggle.

But that is false.

I think “having it better” means that you understand what it takes to get what you have, not necessarily to have more. Maybe my kids will grow up to have more material wealth than I have, or maybe they won’t. I don’t think that should be the goal. Having it better doesn’t mean you got it free, or easily, or with no work. The goal should be to be better. That is, have a better character, more integrity, more kindness, and more empathy.

So when the tough pitches start flying, those that have the experience need to be there as moral support, but not step into the lineup. I shouted all kinds of “you can do its” through the chain link fence. I wished my hardest for her. But in the end, only she could step up to the plate.

 

What do you think? Make a comment below.

 

 

Photo credit: T Hall via Visual hunt / CC BY-NC-SA

Photo credit: mf.flaherty via Visual hunt / CC BY-NC-ND

 

People. They might just as easily be from your city but I’ll speak of mine.

Dickens wrote:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”

To some this line is confusing. But others are already forming an argument in their head about what he meant by it. Hold on to those thoughts for a moment and read the rest:

“…it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way…”

The Times

Can all of those conditions exist simultaneously? Well, yes they can. In fact, they do. Now is the best of times, and now is the worst of times. When I drive through the downtown streets of my city, by the river, near the parks, around city hall, I see the worst. It is apparent and inescapable. In contrast, I probably fall into the “best” category.

Not the best or worst of people, mind you. That’s not what he said, and that’s not what I think either. Dickens didn’t say “we” were the best, or “they” were the worst. He said it was the best of times and it was the worst of times. The implication being that it was the best or the worst of times for someone. And to be honest, I should be included in the group having the best of times. Everything in my life isn’t perfect, but I can’t complain.

I have a job and a family, a house and a car. Where I will find my next meal is not a question in my mind. I have some money in the bank if I need it for an emergency or for fun. Perhaps most importantly, I am in complete control of my faculties. My life is pretty good.

Then there’s that other group. This is the group we kind of ignore when we are in the midst of the best of times, even though they are having the worst of times right under our noses. They sleep under bridges, in the bushes, or squat behind warehouses. It is their winter of despair. They can’t shower every day and might not even have a change of clothes. Food comes at the grace of others. Some are slaves to drugs. Others battle mental illness. We refer to them as the “homeless.”

With Nothing Before Them

Charles Dickens wrote A Tale of Two Cities to contrast London and Paris during the French Revolution. If you don’t know, the French were the ones having the worst of times back then. More than likely someone could easily write a similar book about two cities from our present time.

But I don’t get too emotional about cities.

How would it be contrasting two people, instead? Envision yourself in your present circumstances as one of the two. What lies before you? Perhaps you have a job, or a prospect, at least dreams. You know that if you complete that particular class, you will finally graduate. Or you may have finally interviewed for the job you always wanted. Maybe you already have the job you always wanted.

No matter where you are, I am willing to bet you can see multiple paths in front of you. Each path will lead you somewhere, to places you dream about or can easily envision. There are obstacles, no doubt, but you know that if you work hard enough, you can hurdle those. You are not alone on your journey either. Friends, family, and acquaintances will help you along. This is Dickens’ “spring of hope.”

But now the contrast.

Imagine you are someone different, one of those in the “winter of despair” instead. What if you didn’t have anyone to help you, no friends or family? Perhaps you can’t read. Maybe you have become addicted to drugs and can no longer reason your way through basic situations. Do you have a mental illness, untreated or undiagnosed, that makes it quite literally impossible to manage your life?

With the understanding that these are just a few of the many potential challenges that people face, what now lies before you in this condition? Do you still have the spring of hope in front of you? Or is it the nothing of winter?

The Spring of Hope

I can not speak for every person facing poverty in the world. More accurately, I can’t speak for any of them, because I don’t know them or their hearts. Many people say (I have said it myself), and it is probably true, that some people are where they are because of their own actions. They made a choice that resulted in their present circumstances.

You would be hard-pressed to find anyone in the world that hasn’t screwed up something they really wanted by doing something ill-advised. That’s human nature. So how can that hypothesis then justify ignoring a person sitting on the street corner who is in need?

Having made a mistake in their past shouldn’t exclude them from help now. When you’re standing next to one of the rougher people of the world, it’s pretty easy to suddenly feel pristine. But that false pride is a mistake.

People without hope need a helping hand first before they can get moving again. They might not even know how to start to get themselves going. It’s easy enough when you’re living through the best of times to just shout advice, but that might not be very helpful in the end. Instead, what people need is someone who is invested and committed to each individual. The problems homeless people face cannot be categorized into a single catch-all, and therefore neither can the solutions.

But hope can end despair, just as spring ends every winter. Those of us who have the ability can strengthen another person in their weakness. There is a cost to that, of course, but I think the results are worth the costs, not to mention the improvement it brings to our own life. I have written about that topic before.

The Tale of One City

The dichotomy presented by Dickens’ famous opening line is far more poignant in the context of people than as a contrast between two disparate politically misaligned cities. Our tale of two cities occurs in just one city, our own city. Here, the best and the worst of times pass each other daily. Spring and Winter cohabit, with Spring diligently pretending not to see Winter and Winter desperately trying to pierce the choking fog of despair.

At the conclusion of A Tale of Two Cities, Sydney Carton faces a choice. He could continue his own (somewhat) selfish existence or take the place of Charles Darnay, his look-alike friend trapped in the Bastille and condemned to die. In prison, Sydney would inevitably face certain death at the footstool of the Guillotine. He chooses to free Darnay and take his place.

Carton’s famous closing line is “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” Why does he say this? Because the sacrifice, though real, is less valuable to him than the new life he has granted to his friend in need. This feeling of satisfaction through self-sacrifice can only be truly understood through direct experience. You have to live it to get it.

Which Way Will You Go?

We all face a choice—daily we see those who stand looking out on a future of nothing, in their winter of despair. We live with the promise of everything. Will we continue to avert our eyes from these people around us, those who are experiencing the worst of times? Or can we follow in Sydney Carton’s allegorical footsteps and do a better thing than we have done before?

Poverty, homelessness, is not a simple problem. It is not a small problem. There are no quick fixes. Perhaps you understand that and you just don’t know what to do. There is help for that.

I learned something this week from Melissa Englebright who posted a very personal video (she is one of the founders of Redding Bridges to Housing). What I heard her say was to just do something. Failing all else if you can simply acknowledge that the person you see on the street corner is a person instead of “homeless” then that is a start for you. Let the rest follow.

There are people that need help, and what they need is beyond their own power. But we, we who live in the best of times, have what they need within our power. And we must remember, the people in need are not “somewhere,” they are here. And they are not “them,” they are individuals. They are people.

I speak of my own city, but it could just as easily be yours.

 

Share your thoughts in the comments section below.

Happiness. So what’s the big deal with that anyway? People talk about happiness all the time. There’s a scene in the movie We Bought a Zoo after Dylan Mee accidentally releases a bunch of snakes on the front porch. Dylan is fifteen, and he doesn’t like living at the zoo his dad bought. A part of the conversation goes like this (his dad’s name is Benjamin):

Benjamin Mee: I just want you to be happy, man! Unless you don’t wanna’ be happy!

Dylan Mee: What is so great about being happy?

I think Dylan’s question is an interesting one. So, what is the big deal with being happy? Happiness can be a hard thing to find, or it can seem hard. Is happiness really worth the effort it takes to get? And what about all the unhappy stuff you have to ignore? There are so many bad things in the world, who has room for happiness? Besides, wouldn’t you feel guilty being happy when there are so many bad things going on everywhere else?

I think I have exhausted my weekly quote of rhetorical questions. What I hope to do with this post is provide an adequate response to these sentiments. What I don’t want to do is make it sound like I’m anti-sadness. Not true. There are times when we just have to be sad. But I am anti despair, which is when we just give up and spiral downward.

Perspectives interest me. How can two people view the exact same situation and see totally different things? This question is important because understanding the fact that it describes reality can help us choose what we want instead of allowing our circumstances to dictate to us what we feel.

Here is an example:

The world is full of misery and pain. It would be hard to argue with that statement, I think. The world is full of goodness and mercy. Likewise, indisputable. Depending on your own mindset, either is true.

The Holocaust

Let’s just get right to it. History is full of some pretty bad things. Documenting all of them would be reasonably depressing at best. The Holocaust has to rank up there with the worst ever in the category of “things that happened.” As a teenager, I studied a lot about WWII, which was one of my favorite topics. But I was interested in it for the military strategy, what happened during battles, and which tanks had the best technology. I did not look too deeply into the true history of the war.

Of course I knew some of it, and had read a little about it, but it hadn’t really solidified in my mind as to what had really happened in Germany in the 1930s. My wife, however, has a different story. She was also interested in WWII, but from the complete opposite perspective from me. She focused on the rise of the Nazis and their actions towards those they deemed undesirable. Today, she has learned so much about what happened during the Holocaust that she is my primary source when I want to know something about it.

When I read Night by Elie Wiesel, I came away reeling. This was many years after I had read The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank, but for some reason it all hadn’t hit me at that earlier point in my life. Anne’s diary is not so revealing of what happened during that time in the concentration camps. I read Night as a young adult in my early twenties. Wiesel’s descriptions and settings put me into that world mentally to the point where I almost felt like I could see it all happening. The question I came away with, as perhaps many do was: “how could a person do that to someone”?

I understand that there are psychological studies for how the Holocaust occurred. Discussions follow regarding “the mob mentality”, dehumanization, scapegoating, and on and on. I don’t know all of them. But in the end, whether these studies and explanations bring some understanding or not, I am left with the same question as at first. How could a person do such a thing to another? Because in the end, despite all the studies and the explanations, a person made a choice to do something horrible to another person. There is no escaping that fact.

But that’s why I want to bring in this particular subject. It heightens the point I wish to make. The Holocaust was likely one of the darkest events in history. It’s a candidate by any measure. And yet, even in the midst of that, is all happiness and hope lost forever? Is it all lost simply because humans, a set of humans, could do something like that to other humans?

Happiness in Anne’s Way

Now I know that we don’t have a record of how Anne Frank felt after she was taken to a concentration camp. I am convinced that Wiesel’s description in Night is sufficiently accurate to be applicable to the experience the Frank’s likely went through as well. I will make no claims on how a person ought to have felt in the midst of Auschwitz in 1944. It would be dark, no doubt.

But there are two quotes from Anne Frank that I believe should never be forgotten. This is the first:

Riches, prestige, everything can be lost. But the happiness in your own heart can only be dimmed; it will always be there, as long as you live, to make you happy again.

Anne Frank, February 23, 1944

She wrote that in her diary about six months before the secret police came for her. Most of the things I have experienced in my life that have been negative have turned out to be less serious once I got to look back at them afterwards. None of them have approached what Anne Frank lived through while jammed into her attic hiding place and then beyond to the concentration camps.

No matter what, I think we can keep a positive attitude even throughout the most difficult things we face in life. I’m not saying you have to smile your way through it all and pretend that nothing is wrong. That’s not a healthy way to live life. But you own your own happiness. You decide in the end how happy or how sad you are long-term. There are moments in our life where we get sad, depressed, unhappy, and so on. But we decide if those moments define who we will be in the future, or if we can regain who we really are after the pain goes away.

How Bad Are People, Anyway?

I think one of the reasons that the Holocaust and other similar events feel so horrible is that they were caused, carried out, or permitted by people. And we are people. So we feel almost like we might have been part of what that other group did or allowed to happen. And maybe also we fear (somewhere deep) that we might have a tiny piece of what made them do that terrible thing inside us somewhere too. And if we do, we are afraid that it might come out under the right circumstances.

Now maybe we do. We carry with us the tendencies, or maybe the capabilities, to do things that would be considered wrong. We all have that in us. That doesn’t mean that we are bad, though. It also doesn’t mean we all have the capability of becoming a serial killer; that’s an extreme. But I think we all have a tendency toward at least one thing that we do not consciously want to do; a thing we would consider “bad.”

In fact, resisting those types of instincts and choosing instead to do something good makes us morally stronger, regardless of what “instinct” we first felt. What we actually do in the end is what matters most. I wrote about this in a different way in this post about why life hurts. And we also have to accept that sometimes we will give in and do something we regret (hopefully not too bad of a thing).

My opinion is that one of the keys to being happy is looking at ourselves and other people not for just who they are and what they have done, but for who they could be as well. Nobody that I know does everything right, not even me. If I only looked at people as the sum of what they had done, my opinion of most people might be quite low. Instead, I try to think about what that person intended with their action. If I can see a good intention, that really helps me feel less upset.

And if I’m less upset, I am happier.

Look for the Good

There are those that say that my kind of attitude is naive, and probably a little bit simple. I’m perfectly fine with that. It helps me feel better. I would rather look for good in people than not.

I know some people who seem to always look for the opposite, or assume the worst in others. They do not seem like happy people to me. Maybe they are, but I doubt it. And this is where I think the second quote from Anne Frank fits in best.

As she struggles to understand her world, one in which humanity seems to have been lost to most people, she wrote this:

It’s difficult in times like these: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality. It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.

Anne Frank, July 15, 1944

She wrote this less than a month before she was taken to Auschwitz.

Happiness is Worth The Trouble

Before I continue, I want to answer Dylan’s question from earlier: the great thing about happiness is that it takes away the burden of anger, depression and hate. Happiness is worth the effort because it brings us closer to our loved ones and our family. And if we are happy, we can actually do more to help those around us feel better too.

There is a saying that you can’t lift someone up unless you’re standing on higher ground. You will never be able to help a friend in need if you are stuck in the same hole they are in.

Here’s the key: happiness is a choice; circumstances are not. Some days will challenge our strength and it will be tough. Tragedy and difficulty are inevitable. But so is recovery if we can keep just a little bit of happiness in our heart, as Anne said. Then, when the difficulty ends, we can draw on that happiness we have stored and get back to where we should be.

You being happy, me being happy, that’s not going to eliminate tragedy or sadness from the world. Anne Frank didn’t end the Holocaust with her attitude. But she has made a difference in millions of lives because of it. And there is no reason you and I can’t do the same.

I think most of the problems in the world are incurable on a mass scale. But individually, each person can be helped. To do that, however, it takes a helper (or more than one). When it comes to the statement that the world is full of misery and pain, I misstated that there was no argument. The word “full” implies everyone is that way. But you can be the one that is not and make that statement false.