Let me start by saying that I don’t think trials are on a horizontal plane. It’s not about comparing our “hard” with anyone else’s. There isn’t some arbitrary yardstick of “THIS trial is [X times] harder than this one, which isn’t quite as bad as _______________.” I mean, sure, there are some things we would probably classify more as annoyances or inconveniences, but when it comes to adversity in life it isn’t about trying to one-up someone else, or think we have more of a right (or less of one, depending) than another person to struggle or even complain. No, I consider trials to be more vertical. They are between us and God, and measured against ourselves as we change and learn and grow, or maybe sometimes get set back or feel broken.
That being said, however, as I have gone through some of the most difficult experiences of my own life these past two years, it does feel like I have gained a sort of super power. I know other people, particularly widows, who feel similarly. Because now there are so many things that simply don’t bother or upset me anymore. I mean, compared to major life losses, I really (well, usually) can’t be bothered anymore to “sweat the small stuff.” In the eternal scheme of things, most of it doesn’t really matter. Can I tell you how freeing that is?
I don’t mean that I am apathetic. Rather, it’s been a process of learning how to give up my illusion of or unattainable striving to control, or to (mostly) stop worrying about the things I cannot control. There’s a big difference between things I can’t control (worries) vs. those I can do something about (concerns). Of course I am concerned about things. Relationships. Earning a living, paying bills, many temporal matters. My own personal growth, and my spiritual, mental, physical, and emotional health. A lot of those are things that I can influence, can work on.
But the worries? I don’t control the thoughts and actions of others. I don’t directly control what is happening in the White House, in Ukraine, things like global warning or natural disasters, or other injustices or contention there is in the world. I can’t “fix” things for everyone else. That doesn’t mean I absolve all responsibility for being an informed and active citizen, or caring for and ministering to others. But many of those issues I do have to ultimately accept that they are simply not mine to control. Or that some things are just my reality. I am widowed. There are illnesses and diagnoses and challenges that come with having a mortal body. People make choices I wish they didn’t. Others have their agency.
That acceptance is huge. I’m far from perfect with it, of course. But life becomes so much more peaceful, joyful, when I am able to differentiate between what is mine to be concerned about and work on, vs. the worries that I need to ultimately hand over to my Father in Heaven. I’m finding that the more life lessons I seem to learn, the more I realize how far I have to go. I’m appreciating the process, though. Isn’t it great that we have eternity to keep progressing?
