This I Believe: It Truly Is a Wonderful Life

Foreward:
This is the aforementioned essay that really began it all for me. Rewind to November 2008...I've been a long-time listener of National Public Radio (don't judge!), and it is not uncommon for me to listen to "Morning Edition" on the way in to work and "All Things Considered" on the way home--in fact, it is uncommon for me not to. I have my reasons for listening, this is one of them:

There is an old series by Edward R. Murrow called "This I Believe." Originally, notable figures of the time would write essays concerning their core beliefs; NPR continues this series today as does Houston Public Radio--the latter taking submissions from everyday Houstonians. I always wanted to make a submission, but never felt I had a worthy enough belief. Until one evening (I believe it was Christmas Eve 2007) when I found myself up late watching the movie "It's a Wonderful Life."

I suddenly realized the important message of this movie, especially within the context of my own life and its recent (and on-going events). I never submitted the resultant essay to NPR, as I couldn't seem to edit it down to the word and time limits; however, my Sarah managed to spread it around the web, so this won't be its FIRST web publishing (sorry to disappoint).

Perhaps one day I'll convince myself that it's worth a submission to the catalyst program. Until then, I'm proud to share with anybody, this I believe...

“This I Believe: It truly is a ‘Wonderful Life’”
An Essay, 11/24/2008

Growing-up, [the movie] “It’s a Wonderful Life” never made much sense to me; but that is likely because I never had the patience to watch this overplayed, seasonally-occurring “black-and-white” made when my parents were young. I am now thankful for that; because, when I happened upon it last year and watched it from beginning to end, I was mature enough to understand why it is an important story to tell. At 31, I am aged more by parenthood than by years; and I see a bit of George Bailey in myself. I never could have imagined that I would face the challenges I do today, but I know—deep down in my heart—that it truly is a wonderful life…this I believe.

My “Mary” is Sarah; and I’ve always been willing to lasso the moon if she would just say the word. We have four great children—Caroline, Adam, Oliver and Cooper. We agreed early-on that—as long as we could afford to do so—one of us should be home to raise our children…I think we sometimes had to fool ourselves into believing that we could afford it, but it is an important “luxury” to us. We have a modest home; no fancy cars or electronics; no extravagant vacations; just a happy, close-knit family that trumps every other privilege in life. I believe in my father’s ethic: to work hard to provide for my family everything they need…and most of what they want.

Through eight years of marriage and seven years of fatherhood I have experienced many triumphs and trials. But the devastating ordeal that threatens to take me to that icy bridge surrounds the health of our youngest son, Cooper. A yet-to-be-named disorder has been increasingly affecting his body since his early birth into a NICU. Today, after a growing number of months in the hospital, he is IV nutrition dependant for the remainder of his life. So, after a difficult start, he will most certainly have a difficult finish in a race that medical statistics say will end early. As a parent, this has been a heart-wrenching concept to grasp. However, I adamantly refuse to even consider starting that cold, drunken, Christmas Eve walk.

I firmly believe that we were “chosen” because there are others that may not been able to handle the challenges of our life as well; and therefore, “better us than them.” Our marriage and family have remained strong, open and honest throughout; and I believe that is what has kept us faithful (in all respects) and with hope.

I believe in the innate goodness of the human being. Though this has burned me several times, it will continue to because I cannot give up on it. I try to help others as much as I can; but find difficulty accepting help from others, and am ashamed when I give into the temptation. The grown-up in me could blame this on a feeling of unworthiness, perception of self-sufficiency, and plain old foolish pride. But truthfully, I feel indebted to help others as penance for the misdeeds of my childhood.

Yet, each day when I return home, I return to the unsolicited and unyielding support of those who care. The relationship of mutual respect and aid that I now have with my mother-in-law is one that I could never have foreseen as a twenty-something newlywed. The residents of our once quiet street have grown closer in a unified effort to help us with the challenges that we face. Surrounded by the love and support of family, friends and neighbors, I ask daily “Why me?”

In the end, the “Wonderful Life” of George Bailey explains it all…

• Wealth is determined by how much you mean to others; and you can only gain their admiration by following The Golden Rule.
• Everything happens for a reason, and somehow the world is better because of it.
• We are educated when we have the clarity and patience to understand this.
• We are fortunate when we see the reason for the ordeal realized.
• God does not challenge us with ordeals we cannot overcome.
• When you lose faith and clarity, listen to the Clarence that He sends to you…an angel’s wings are not earned by leading man astray.

This I believe.

A Continued Beginning

PREFACE:



I am finding myself staring off into the distance wondering where to begin--besides the beginning...that's so cliche. I won't start now...that would be too obvious. I won't start at the end...for two reasons: (1) only He knows how this will end, and (2) I'd rather not think about "the end" right now. So, it's an odd beginning, because it's already begun and there is so much that I have already learned. That's it: I'll CONTINUE here, and move back to there. Yes, I'll do that...and I'll do it quickly before this becomes too obnoxious.



HERE (cont'd):



In the grand scheme of life, I'm not that old. I was a "B" student in high school; I have an undergraduate degree; I have a master's degree; and I work as an engineer in the most lucrative industry in the world. Why say all of this? Because it wasn't until just over 2 years ago that I had my...awakening--that's the best way I know to describe it. It inspired me to write an essay--which I expect to share as my second (but, "first official") post; and since then I've seen my life and the world in a different way.



What I've realized, though, is that this "different way" is not new, novel, exclusive nor radical. These are basic facts of life (without Jo, Tutti, Blair, Natalie and Mrs. G) told by nearly every culture the world has know...and definintely by the ones still in existence today--perhaps that's why they are so. I believe that people just need a good reminding every now and then; and why not be reminded by a nobody rather than a prophet.

Prophet: that's a funny term because upon hearing it one is immediately inclined to evoke mental images of a man-of-God, wearing robes, and preaching to the masses. I don't think that's the case at all in modern society. Well, some of those may still exist, but I view prophets as those of high public stature that preach their "righteous" thoughts and opinions to those willing to listen--or captive in the audience.



Let me set the record straight RIGHT NOW: no idea that I will convey is new. It is simply laced with my own "insighfulness" and crude tone--no, that doesn't mean I'm am insightful (i.e. deep and intelligent) and crude (i.e. vulgar and without compassion); that means the ideas have been filtered through my brain and presented in an unrefined manner. I want people to know that all of these grand ideas apply to even the little things in the life of a nobody, and they help that willing nobody understand life.



Finally, why call this "The Barrel Maker's Cure"? Well, I hate to leave you with a cliffhanger, but we'll get to that later. However, if you recall from the first paragraph, before we can get to THAT we have to at least go back to THERE, which we can now do because I am finished HERE.