Saturday, January 16, 2021
Joan Christy
Resilience
My book discussion group recently finished reading Pearl Buck's The Good Earth. Not many months before, we read John Steinbeck's The Grapes Of Wrath. Though the two stories take place in opposite sides of the world, one in pre-communist China and the other in the midst of the Great Depression in the United States, many of the themes are the same: greed, injustice, and the fragility of the land to name but a few. One theme in these novels, perhaps simply because of its implicit nature, is not, it seems, often discussed. It is resilience, the ability to stand up to the vagaries of this life and move forward.. In these books, as in life, there are people who react to painful circumstances in ways that often make their situation worse. Others, instead of reacting, respond. They look at the reality of a bad situation and ask themselves, "What is the best, wisest thing I can do now given these circumstances?" They are the resilient ones.
I saw this first hand when my husband, Taylor, and I, in late winter 1970, were staying in the Polish town of Bialystok near the border with Lithuania. Poland was then part of the Soviet Union. Reminders of Stalin's cruel iron grip on the country were everywhere, as were reminders of the suffering the people endured during World War II. Food was scarce. Life was grim. Living conditions were, to my American sensibilities, intolerable. So too was the corruption I witnessed first hand. I heard stories of unspeakable horror from the mouths of those who had witnessed first hand atrocities perpetuate on Poland's citizens by Hitler's army during the Second World War. Many, who could not bear the weight of their country's tragedy succumbed to alcoholism and despair. Others did not, the resilient ones. There are a number of reasons for this resilience, put forth by people who study the subject. For me, personally, there is only one I am certain of.
There was no official room for God in the Soviet Union's secular government.. Still, one dark, snowy evening , Taylor and I, walking through the town, came upon a church, its interior bright with candles and its door opened to the wintry weather. Filled beyond capacity, late arriving worshippers were kneeling in the wet snow outside the open door. That image has stayed with me all these years. Resilience and the people's belief in God prevailed over the will of the state.
On January 1st 1972, my second son, Alex was born. Less than a year later, Taylor was dead, the victim of melanoma, a vicious, fast moving cancer. Nathan, our beloved three and a half year old, baby Alex and I were thrust into a bewildering world of poverty and insecurity. This was no time for despair. If my children and I were going to survive, I would have to be resilient. I had neglected church for a number of years ( though not my faith and trust in God.) Now I knew it was time to return to the church I grew up in, St. John's on Chapel Hill in Portsmouth. It wasn't easy coming back. The Prayer Book I was familiar with had changed dramatically and I knew no one there. As I left the service that late summer day, I decided I would not be coming back. To be honest, I felt unwelcome. Then one woman, standing in the porch, spoke directly to me. She asked me if I were a newcomer and welcomed me with a broad smile. Because of her kindness, I decided then and there to give St. John's one more chance the following Sunday. I did go back and this time decided to stay. Nathan and Alex grew up in the church that I returned to. We became a part of the St. John's community. My decision that day to return to St. John's was probably the best I ever made. From it has come so many dear friends and countless blessings. I will never be dissuaded that it was the Holy Spirit, so alive in this world, if we would only pay attention, that led me there. I am eternally grateful.
Both my sons, like their father, are now dead. Alex dies in 2009 after struggling for years with brain injury caused when he was struck by a truck while riding his bicycle in the streets of downtown Boston. Nathan died suddenly four years later. He choked to death at his home, the result of a swallowing disorder that had plagued him throughout his life, though, reticent as he was, only mentioned to a few.
"How do you stand it ?"a close friend asked me not long ago. It is not always easy. Some days my tears flow freely, especially during the holiday season. I know I am not alone So many, maybe most of us, have suffered great losses of one type or the other during this time of the COVID-19 and in our lives. Through all our sufferings, God is with us. I have experienced this reality many times in my life. This I, with
certainty, know.