Finding Purpose

I have been in a kind of emotional funk lately and today I think I just woke up exhausted from thinking so much about so many things this past weekend. I was dreading going to class feeling so out of it and emotional and everything, but today my class was a real gift to me.

We had been reading a story called "The Luck of Roaring Camp" adapted for English language learners, but a very thought-provoking story overall, about a camp of miners during the gold rush. There was only one woman living in the camp, which is a little odd in and of itself. She dies giving birth and the men "adopt" the baby, name him "the Luck" and the baby brings them luck for awhile. In the process, then men also change their habits, stop swearing so much, plant some flowers, and try to make the camp more comfortable for a child.

Then, however, winter sets in, floods wash away everyone's homes, almost everyone dies and the last scene is two men watching one of the men float on a raft holding tightly onto the baby. The baby has already died and the man is telling the people watching that he is about to die too- that "the luck is a-taking me with him"

When I first read the story, I was pretty distraught- it seemed so incredibly depressing. For homework, the students had to write about whether this story was happy or sad and why and what the message is.

The students talked about a lot of possibilities but some stood out to me. One student talked about how the story was sad because it shows us that as much as we can change ourselves, prepare ourselves and control in our lives, there are always things outside of our control that can take our lives or the lives of others. A sad concept, indeed.

Another student talked about how the story was happy because everyone has a purpose in life. Even though it is sad that a baby would die, the baby helped the men to learn to love. Before the baby, the men only thought of themselves. They were selfish, but because of the baby, the men changed their lives and became better people. The baby fulfilled his purpose of changing the men and the men fulfilled theirs.

So, I think of my own life, of how frustrating it is that so many things are outside of my own control, how despite my best efforts, I may never have what I long for most and yet, how there is another way to see that reality- the point is not necessarily to survive, but to "fulfill a purpose" if you will- to reach our potential, to be better.

I was reading on a website about miscarriage how sometimes women who miscarry can project fears onto the next child, treat their other children like they are too delicate or become overprotective or overbearing. Sometimes we can compound our losses by doing things that cause us to lose so much more than what was originally lost. Nothing can bring back my baby. Nothing will bring her back into the world.... but why do I want her here? To love and hold and teach and care for? There are many people in my life that I can give my love to, that I can hold, that I can teach and that I can care for in one way or another... of course, it is not the same as having my own daughter, but love is love- if we all only loved our own children in this world and not the children of others, we would remain a cold, selfish culture...

Sometimes I worry I won't be able to "experience" certain things in life- like being able to carry a baby inside- I worry I'll never be able to feel that intimacy, that closeness, the miracle that it is to carry a baby inside of you... a large part of me wants to have a child to understand what it was that the Virgin Mary experienced or that so many women have experienced throughout time, but then I also realize no one can experience everything.

People who have never lost a child can imagine but can never intimately know what it is to lose a child - another powerful experience of our Virgin mother. Most people would be perfectly content to never experience this of course, but God has brought about some of the most incredible and important miracles through human suffering. I am reminded of how the Catholic Church considers Easter, and not Christmas, to be the most important day of the year. Of course, Easter couldn't have happened without Christmas, but Jesus' purpose would never have been brought to fulfillment without His death.

Perhaps I am still mourning Angelica's death because children come into the world in part at least, to change their parents, hopefully for the better- to help them learn how to give more, and be less selfish... and I am, selfishly, too tied up in my own sadness to allow her to fulfill her purpose in me...

When a baby lives, it's easier in some ways- you know where to direct your love, you get the satisfaction of seeing the fruit of your labor and your love and your sleepless nights in your baby's face. When your child dies, it's not as easy. It's unclear who you're supposed to care for, where you're supposed to direct all this built up energy and passion and love. I guess that's what I'm struggling with- I'm looking for a "new love" but maybe my calling right now is to recognize and appreciate the love I already have in my life. Not in the form of a newborn baby, but in the many other forms Christ comes to us- in my incredible, generous, supportive parents, my beautiful, thoughtful sisters, and my strong, patient husband. I'll leave you with the following quote by Edgar Allen Poe,

"Never to have suffered would never to have been blessed."