When Lisa was diagnosed with colon cancer, a man from work came up to me and said, “My son had cancer. It was the best thing that ever happened to our family. It brought us closer together than we’d ever been before.”
You’re a nut! I thought to myself politely nodding. His son did live.
I found myself in a similar position to that man this week. I had a conversation with a friend who was going through a very difficult time. The table had turned. I was now the encourager. And I did my job.
But the interesting thing was that I believed, because of my experience, that she would be OK. Although her situation seemed dire, I could genuinely see her bad news as an opportunity. A time for her to turn over a new leaf, to move forward.
THAT’S NOT ME! My glass is half empty. What’s going on here? I can’t take all of this positivity.
How in the heck do you suffer, tremendously, and come out thinking that others can perhaps grow through their trials?
I guess its because -
1) I made it through and didn’t wilt, which I, and perhaps most other people, thought I might
2) Good things have happened to me since Lisa died
3) I have grown significantly through this process
I don’t want to blow smoke up someone’s behind telling them with hollow voice that “everything will be OK.” I don’t want to be that glass half full guy who says “God will take care of you.” But I think that I’ve grown to sort of believe that stuff.
Life isn’t always happy. I have tough days and better days. In many ways I’m not as fulfilled or content as I was when Lisa was alive. And yet, I’m OK. Yeah, better than OK. And I believe my friend will be too.