Walkenhorst Family

Walkenhorst Family

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Two Useful Perspectives on Life

A few years ago, I began to imagine what my life would be like without my wife. Our relationship may not be perfect, but on the whole, it's been a really positive thing for both of us. There have ups and downs that have lasted for years and ups and downs that last for only days or even hours. But even in the down times, I think we would both agree that it has been a positive thing for us. At times, the positive lay simply in the growth that came from the struggle. Or maybe we just learned what NOT to do. But most of the time, it has been a source of joy and comfort in the midst of external struggles.

So, imagining my life without Emily is not a happy thought. But for various reasons, I made it very real for myself a few years ago. What if my life with Emily ended tomorrow? What if we had a month left together? What if we had a year? What would we do with that remaining time? Let's just pretend we knew one of us was going to die and we had a fixed time together. Maybe we even knew how long that time would be. Would we do anything differently? Would we talk differently to one another? Are there activities we would do in that situation that we aren't doing now? If so, why are we not doing them?

Now, most of the time, I imagined Emily dying because that seemed to be the more difficult situation for me, but imagining either one was interesting. It's odd to say that in imagining losing Emily and working through this possibility mentally, I went through some grief that, while unfounded, was very real to me. I imagined what it would be like to lose her. I imagined the feelings inside me as I attended her funeral. I imagined how I would pay tribute to her while grieving together with my children. I imagined what it would take for me to support my family financially. I imagined how I would help my children through their grief.

Does this experiment of mine sound morbid to you? It seemed morbid to me at times, but I'll tell you some good things that came from it. Ever since I got married, I have been afraid of the possibility of losing my wife whenever I have taken time to think about it. Having worked through all of this in my mind, I'm not afraid of that anymore. I got over my own fear of death long before I got over the fear of losing Emily. I'm happy to say that, while I don't desire either my death or hers, I'm not afraid of either one happening. Casting out that fear and others like it has left a very peaceful and confident feeling in their place.

It's also not an unrealistic perspective. I have been reminded of the reality of death in recent weeks as two friends of mine have lost family members. I know a little of how that feels. As a teenager, I lost one of my best friends in a car accident. It tore me up inside and it took months for me to heal. I fell deeply in love with my wife and I came to realize that losing her would be one of the hardest things I have ever dealt with. Losing my friend years ago was a terribly difficult experience. Losing my wife would be worse. Hopefully God won't demand that of me anytime soon, but if He does, I think I'm a little better prepared than I was before I went through this thought experiment.

I found that by thinking about life as if it was always about to end, I was able to examine a lot of the things I did and change them. Petty things that used to seem important suddenly didn't seem very important when I imagined the most important relationship in my life might be snatched away from me tomorrow. By looking at life as if it would end tomorrow ... or maybe today, I was able to treat Emily (and others) in a way that reflected how I would want things to end. Many things became more positive for me because I was always imagining that the actions I take or the words I speak at any moment could be the last they ever see or hear from me. There's one useful perspective on life - imaging it will end soon.

A second perspective I have found useful is imagining the opposite. Imagine it will go on forever. There are times when I picture Emily and I going on forever just as we are now. I don't really want that because change is one of the things I value in life, but the value I see in that perspective is in balancing the morbid perspective. There's obvious value in imagining that every word you say might be your last. But if you're only thinking about the imminence of death, you'll never make plans for the future. Imagining that life will go on forever allows me to step back and say, 'ok, life could end tomorrow, but imagining it will go on forever, where do I want to be in a year ... in five years ... in twenty five years?' The long-term perspective helps me make plans for the future and helps me to find a balance in the care I give to immediate actions as well as long-term ones.

Does that make any sense?

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