It's A Wonderful Life

Help is coming

Sometimes, it is not clear what things people are going through: demands, pressures, trauma, psychological issues, unmet goals, unfulfilled dreams, or just the humdrum of daily life. In all this, one must continue to live and seek to thrive, because that is what living is all about.

I just finished watching an abridged version of the 1946 film, It's A Wonderful Life, on Amazon Prime Video, which would form the themes of our discussions in church during the Advent season that started last Sunday, but was deferred for the silver jubilee of our bishop's enthronement as a bishop in the Church of England.

There were times when I shed a tear while watching the film, which, on its release, barely broke even at the box office, but over the years, has become a Christmas staple of generosity and redemption against the odds. The need for a life partner, for prayer, and knowing you have a guardian angel can make all the difference to an existence bordering on despondency.

“Senior Angel: A man down on Earth needs our help.
Clarence: Splendid. Is he sick?
Senior Angel: No, worse. He's discouraged.” A conversation in heaven from the film.

Under the darkest clouds

The concept of being discouraged stems from various factors, including losing confidence or hope, feeling that one's efforts don't make a difference, or believing goals are out of reach. These issues meet us in different places and affect us to varying degrees.

There may be the kind of resilience that helps one see beyond the present, or sometimes one can get overwhelmed to the point of seeking an outlet. Either way, this represents the fragility of our humanity, which is difficult to explain to people who see us as stalwarts and leaders, in thought and deed.

In the last few months, even as I seem to have powered through a lot of things in health, at work, and in general relationships, I am drawn to the realisation that I might be exhausted. Feeling a lot better after cancer treatment, whilst grateful for the developments and progress, does not make it less impactful. It was a daunting situation, with support coming from just a handful of people.

The safety of withdrawing

Apart from the two weeks' break I had in August and September, I have worked since the first working day of the year, returning from sick leave and hardly structuring the return to work. In terms of family, most just thought it was another headache; only two of my siblings kept engaged from when I was diagnosed through my treatment.

I began to cut down on my social interactions and withdrew into my shell, my engagements mainly limited to my partner, my best friend, my church community, the work environment, and a few friends. I need the time to myself without shouldering responsibilities or fielding issues. I have done enough for the purposes of legacy, if that matters at all.

Even at the emotional low points, I must encourage myself. I see possibility within the flux and the fog, knowing the dark clouds have to shift for the sunshine to give light, warmth, and life.

Most of all, I am truly fortunate, exceedingly grateful, and amazingly blessed. “No man is a failure who has friends.” I am thankful for the friends I have; they pray for me, support me, encourage me, give me hope, and restore my faith, showing me such undeserved, unconditional love. It is indeed a wonderful life, after all.

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