Sitting on the sofa, listening to a heart-wrenching story of someone’s rise from the ashes always seems to bring me to tears as I ponder what God is trying to say to me. Perhaps, it’s about compassion, the empathy that a human should feel for another fellow human who is in the midst of unspeakable suffering and pain. Perhaps, it’s the inner struggle, a demonic force if you will, that is fought with strength and courage; that courage with doesn’t vanquish fear but learns to overcome it. Perhaps, it’s rage, that rage that begs the question, why should this person go through all of this misery when there are those out there who deserve much worse. Perhaps, just perhaps, one identifies with the other person’s suffering because either they have been part of a similar struggle in the past or they are now confronted with the same struggle or worse going forward. See, pain and suffering, which is natural and not moral, has always been difficult for me to fully grasp. Sure, we live in an imperfect world that is fraught with terminal illness, earthquakes, hurricanes, and the like. Yet, I humbly ask what’s the lesson to be learned? Moral evil is generally understood to be logical in the sense that people make choices through free will. Those choices have consequence and the resultant consequences could affect millions globally. But, I’ve yet to “reconcile” natural evil with any pat answer that would cover all of my questions as to the whys of it. In my belief as a Christian, this was not God’s original plan that there be evil at all. In fact, Scripture clearly states in the book of Genesis that what God created was good. In fact, human sin begot moral and natural evil and so it goes. This is not to question God at all. I simply state that the arguments there are for the understanding of why there is natural evil seem to be more formidable than the arguments put forth for the understanding of why there is moral evil.
As a physician, I’ve often found myself placed in situations where the patient is very ill. Incomprehensibly, the task at hand is to care for the patient, but also for the family members or friends. This is a daunting task as the suffering on the part of the patient is magnified by the suffering of the remaining members of the family at large. Oftentimes, no matter how detailed the explanation, in the final analysis, situations arise where the patient deteriorates and sometime, dies, no matter the effort or technology placed at hand. It is devastating to all involved. Sometimes, the patient does regain some sense of normalcy, but with great suffering and certain permanency to his/her illness. The long-lasting consequences of complications of mental illness combined with the physical maladies have repercussions that weigh heavily on all involved. This is not simple. There is a “price” to be paid for being sick. One cannot minimize the help that is needed in order for the patient to return back to “normalcy.” The courage and fortitude that one needs to undertake this return is almost always a slow, upward climb. Without that strength of conviction, it simply would not be possible and the consequences of not achieving goals are far reaching, both for the patient and anyone who has any relationship with him/her.
What inspires you? That is a very broad, yet complex question. I’ve often thought that there are few people or instances that inspire me. Why? I think it’s being numbed. Through the years I’ve made friendships with my patients, practically all of them, and have loved them all as well. At times, they have passed and have gone to their just rewards. I’ve been to their funerals and have wept with their family members. The devastation of the permanency of death is palpable. Over the years, I’ve acquired a certain numbness to death for my own preservation, but not really. On occasion, I would see great peace and acceptance in some of the family members and that always intrigued me when I was an atheist. Previously, as an atheist, I was always quite circumspect about death. It seemed so out of place with life, so meaningless. Why have all of this living with family, friends, good times and whatever, only to be subjugated to such a gross finality? So, these certain “creatures,” who looked so peaceful and rested in their loved one’s demise always fascinated me. We’re they on drugs? Did they take a chug or two before the service? What was it?
Several years ago, God came into my life all of a sudden. It’s a long story, meritorious of another time. Suffices to say that the grace of God came to me when I was not looking for it. That changed everything! My perspective on life changed. Death was not an end but a beginning. I finally understood why those people who were sitting there so complacent were not complacent at all. They were joyous. Why? Because their loved one was now with God. Throughout all the years I had been so afraid of death, I now came to the conclusion that death is just a passageway to something far greater: God. The certainty that I could die and spend eternity with God is inspirational to me. And, yes, it should be for you as well. See, I’m a Christian. In Christianity, Jesus came from heaven to assume human nature and become man so that He could die for our sins. Not only that, but He was resurrected and assumed His rightful place in heaven once more where one day, we can be with Him. Now, the offer is there for all, but there’s a catch; one must freely choose to have a relationship with Him, not because He’s a good, moral teacher, but because He’s God. For me, that’s the most inspiring thing I could ever imagine. Life is not a mindless disarray of random molecules floating around in an empty void of a purposeless abyss. If so, then inspiration becomes numb and helping all those people get through their sickness with their family’s is a great lie and the greatest fraud one could possibly commit.