Led to where we would rather not go
Read time: 3.5 minutes
“…when you were young you put on your own belt and walked where you liked; but when you grow old you will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather not go”. Jn 21:18 *
The literal take of course is that Jesus was prophesying Peter’s martyrdom.
But the message also goes beyond the immediate; it applies to all of us. It foresees the countless “deaths” we endure through our commitment to family, friends, our work, and the endless responsibilities we have that pull us in different directions at once.
Therapists would say that it’s a matter of “time management”, and “self-care” — and there is truth in that.
But the passage also speaks to us of being taken, not by the consequences of our choices but by circumstances beyond our control — taken to a place we’d rather not go.
One such place for me was the death of my sister.
Two months shy of her 50th birthday, a freak backyard accident took her life — she tripped, fell into her empty swimming pool, rolled to the pool’s concave bottom, and drowned, unconscious, face-down in six inches of dirty water.
Without exception, the hardest thing I’ve had to do was to walk into the funeral home’s viewing room.
I remember waiting outside the doorway gathering my composure, but as I tried to take the step into the room, it was as if there was a “force-field” preventing my entry. I seemed to “bounce off” the open doorway each time I tried.
It was surreal, oddly emotionless, yet overwhelmingly emotional.
After my first attempt, I gathered myself and tried again, and again I recoiled back.
Always the “observer/analyst” [enneagram-‘5’], I stood there marveling at what was happening. I saw two options.
One was to steel myself and force the step through the door. An act of will.
The other was that as much as I wanted to reject death’s reality, I needed to leave the crippling weight of seeing my little sister in a casket, and to step into reality. An act of the spirit.
I asked for strength. I received it.
I was able to take that step into the reality of the present and deal with it — not with self-imposed force, but with accepted grace.
This was surely “a rope tied around my hands” that led me to a place I’d rather not go.
Go we must.
Denial is a necessary stage of grief, but it can only be a stage along the journey; it cannot be where we reside. If we do not work at healing, we live a legacy of festering pain.
Life has many twists and turns, some horrifically tragic, others incredibly joyful. Though we would always choose the joyful, the tragic has more to teach us — but in order to learn its lessons, we need to allow ourselves to experience it, accept it, and integrate it, not forget — never forget! but always integrate.
We need to let it teach us and draw us to grow, to soften and mellow, to accept ourselves and others while still challenging ourselves, and others, to grow and mature.
As the wise words say, “Forgiveness is not for the one who causes the pain, it is release for those who suffer the pain”.
Forgiveness is the movement toward healing. Reliving and dwelling in the trauma of the anger and hate too easily becomes strangely familiar, even comforting.
Tragedy is no different. It can lead to a debilitating depression. Painful and life-draining as it can be, it is an inevitable part of life.
It forces us to take a step back and realize how fragile life is. It encourages us to live differently. It tells us that as long as we are still alive, we have the opportunity to realize the pledges we make to ourselves — to re-focus priorities, to engage and re-engage with loved ones, to do and say the things we wish we had, as we stand next to the caskets of our tragedies.
They teach us to pay attention to each other while we can, not just because life can be snatched away at anytime — but because that is how and why we are created: to “pay attention” to each other, to draw joy out of life, to learn from life — and from death, as we need to.
“God is Love” [1Jn 4:8,16] and as we are created in the image of God — as God’s breath first gave us life, God lives in each of us whether we acknowledge God or not, worship God or not, look to God for strength and guidance or not.
If God “forgot” us for the slightest moment, we would cease to exist: “…and in Him, all things hold together…” [Col 1:17]. God is Love.
Augustin said, “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You”. [Confessions]
Our hearts are restless until they rest in love.
* Bible quotes from: New Jerusalem Bible