Walking thru the valley

I am reading the new novel by Shauna Singh Baldwin, The Selector of Souls. Like other books of hers that I have read, it is set in India.  It used to be that when I read of India, it was a place solely in my imagination, almost magical and fantastical.  Now, having visited India, the sights and sounds and smells described are so real to me.  The daily struggles of Damini and Anu, the main characters, are so much more poignant having met others whose lives are similarly filled with challenges and yet, lived with grace.

As I travel with Damini and Anu from Delhi to the foothills of the Himalayas, I am struck over and over again by the extent to which their lives are lived in the valleys of life, struggling with the effects of illness, poverty, abuse and powerlessness.  They rarely exercise any control over their circumstances.  Yet they struggle onward, with a sense of purpose and remarkably, with optimism.

This spirit, this hopefulness is something I saw in those I met in India.  Over and over I witnessed the strength that comes from hope.  I was introduced to people whose lives were the definition of resilience and I was left humbled by these encounters.

I have been thinking lately about the words of David in the classic 23rd Psalm:

23 The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want.

² He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters.

³ He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.

⁴ Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

The words of verse 4 have been rolling around my brain:  “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me….” This is a passage I think of when trying to work my way through grieving the loss of a loved one.  It is a passage that has brought me comfort in times of great sorrow.

This morning, it occurred to me that the passage doesn’t say, “…though I sometimes walk through the valley” and that,  maybe walking through the valley of the shadow of death is actually part of our ordinary, everyday existence.  Maybe we are always walking in that valley.  It certainly seems to be the way it is for people in the slums and countryside of India.

We in Western society have managed, with great success, to excise death and the effects of illness from most of our lives, or at least, to live under the illusion that we have done so.  When death comes near, we are often shocked, as though it is not an ordinary part of human existence.  The struggles associated with disease and injury to our bodies bring us literally and figuratively, to our knees.  We cry out for mercy.  We ask, Why me?  We plead for relief.

We often live our lives in fear of death though it is necessary a part of living, failing to fully place our hope in the God who walks with us through the darkest valleys and find our comfort in His presence.

How then shall we live?  In the article Living With Dying (February 2, 2013 Winnipeg Free Press), the author notes that a friend of his lives in a Northern community where death comes frequently.  He says of his friend:

I think death’s constant presence has made him the most ‘in the moment’ person I know. Whenever I need advice on a tough problem, he is among the first I call.

It seems that at best, death is a present reminder of the power of your life and the life of those you love. I observe that those who have confronted death with frequency, approach their lives with purpose and a constant sense of possibility.

That sounds like a good place to start.

Living more dangerously

A Facebook friend just posed the question: What are your goals for 2012?  Without thinking, I responded “Live dangerously.”

From time to time I hear from someone I know that they admire my risk-taking, usually speaking of my career choices.  But I do not think of myself as anything but risk-averse.  In fact, one of my many jobs requires that I provide lawyers across the country with risk management advice – in other words, I suggest ways to avoid risk.  But maybe the difference is in how we are defining risk.

I recently had an exchange via Twitter with a person I’ve never met but know via his blog which I read faithfully.  He follows me on Twitter and so we know each other a little by what we write.  In any case, I tweeted something to him and then wondered if I’d been too familiar, so I sent a follow up apology.  His response is what has me thinking about all this.  He blew off my apology, told me I worry too much and then said: My wish for you: live life more dangerously.

I was floored by that comment.  A near-total stranger completely pegged me.  I am too often worried by what might be, what others might think, what could happen if….  That’s a limiting way to live, and some might even say, not living at all.

If my faith in God means anything at all, I have to take seriously these words from Luke 12:

 “For this reason I say to you, do not worry about your life, as towhat you will eat; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. ²³ For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. ²⁴ Consider the ravens, for they neither sow nor reap; they have no storeroom nor barn, and yet God feeds them; how much more valuable you are than the birds! ²⁵ And which of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life’s span? ²⁶ If then you cannot do even a very little thing, why do you worry about other matters? ²⁷ Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; but I tell you, not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these.²⁸ But if God so clothes the grass in the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, how much more will He clothe you? You men of little faith! ²⁹ And do not seek what you will eat and what you will drink, and do not keep worrying. ³⁰ For all these things the nations of the world eagerly seek; but your Father knows that you need these things. ³¹ But seek His kingdom, andthese things will be added to you. ³² Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has chosen gladly to give you the kingdom.

So that’s my plan for 2012 and beyond.  Less worry, more living without fear.  That’s what I mean by living dangerously.