so blessed?

A few months ago I met Annie, Isaac and Ryder on their way home from one of Isaac’s frequently occurring doctor’s appointments, this one a regularly scheduled hearing test. As we shared frozen yogurt, she shared with me the results of the tests: that by all known indicators, Isaac’s situation continues to improve, and that at some point he may have what could be considered normal hearing. Having feared the worst regarding his prognosis for a long time, I shared with him a proverb once given to me by a homeless man named Karl, “You gotta pass the blessing.” By this I meant that the fact that Isaac could hear better was a blessing, and he needed, at some point, to find a way to pass that blessing to people around him, most likely to those with less blessing in their lives.

A few days later, however, I was talking to a friend about the situation, and I began to wonder out loud if I had assessed the situation correctly. Indeed, I began to wonder if better hearing was a blessing, or, if in some subversive economy, it was a something less. It is not that I want my son to face the difficulty of those sorts of challenges, yet ironically it is often the challenges that present us with the greatest opportunities for growth. Did I really know what I was talking about when I considered what it meant to be blessed?

As far as I can tell, most of the time what we mean, or at very least what I mean, when we say we are blessed is that things are going our way. Even in times of loss, we acknowledge, “I am still so blessed in so many other ways,” meaning, “Yes, losing my poodle is hard, but there are still so many other things that are going the way I want them to.” Although it is familiar, I can’t help but wonder if this is an accurate definition. Is this really the full extent of blessing? Does God bless us by giving us what we want? If so, it seems to me that the ones who are the most blessed also have the greatest potential for being spiritually spoiled. For some reason, that does not sit so well with me.

If there is one thing I know in regards to loss, it is that none of us does a very good job dealing with it, and frankly most of us suck at it. Whether the failure of a job or the death of a friend, loss brings up all sorts of unresolved baggage, baggage that we are largely unwilling to admit or address. The tension it creates in us simply feels too great for us to hold, so we seek easy, if not fraudulent, “resolution”.

Yet I am convinced it is this very tension that has such great potential to transform us. The gap between what we want and what actually is provides a sharp reminder that we are ultimately not in control, a lesson we would all do well to remember. The Jewish observance of Sabbath is founded on this very principle, as is the whole of the Scripture narrative. You are not in control. You are finite. The world does not begin and end with you. Those who would have the rest of the world revolve around them are nothing but tyrants, whether meager or great.

I wonder if it is not time for a redefinition of blessing, to admit we may have no clue what the fullness of blessing might look like. My children have sensitized me to the pain of others in a way nothing in the world never has. While I would instantly take any pain upon myself rather than watch them suffer through it, I also believe that it can humble us towards the sorts of people we were meant to be. I simply hope I am able to hold that tension for them, as well as for myself.