My wife has always been drawn to a particular genre of non-fiction in which people struggle against great difficulties, especially physical or mental disabilities. She has read dozens of books in which the main character wrestles with something like autism, Down syndrome, cerebral palsy, blindness or some other malady (though disasters, abuse and hard pioneer life count also).
I have read a number of the books she has around the house and have learned to really appreciate several, not just as interesting stories, but as good, well-written books.
One such book that I can recommend is called "Karen". It is the story of Karen Killilea, who was born with cerebral palsy. It was written by her mother, Marie Killlilea, in 1952. In the book we see how Karen fights both her physical disability and the sometimes callous response of the society around her. There is a bonus, in that the Killileas are a warmly devout Catholic family and the book touches on very relevent themes, such as the intrinsic value of all human life. The book is available at Amazon.com, and you can find more information about the Killileas HERE.
Lately I have wondered what it is about such stories that is so compelling. Everyone has enough trouble of their own, why read about people who have it so much worse than we do?
One good reason to is that these stories throw into sharp relief the virtues that we need to overcome the hard things in our own life. Our admiration for Anne Sullivan’s tenacity in teaching Helen Keller helps us to be a little more tenacious in pursuit of some worthy goal, etc…
Another reason is that we are often tempted to view our own lives as dull and prosaic. Our own struggles don’t seem quite as dramatic as those of people whom we perceive to be "in the trenches", and who struggle under great burdens. It is part of what G.K. Chesterton called the desire for "an active and imaginative life, picturesque and full of a poetical curiosity". In a sense, we envy these people, we covet their stark, tremendous struggles because we are tired of our own small and tepid ones. We don’t often see ourselves as heroes.
But not everyone might agree. It occurred to me that, in our daily battle against the World, the Flesh and the Devil, the angels may view us in a way that is similar to the way we see the heroes in these books; these people who contend with crushing misfortune, or constant deprivation. The fallen world we live in puts us "in the trenches" in a way that makes even our mundane troubles more vital and heroic.
The idea that our lives are dull and meaningless is a lie from the pits of hell. The truth is, every decision we make is of eternal importance.
Not that the angels would envy our place in the battle. If I understand my Bible, they are certainly in the thick of it themselves, and have no lack of excitement. But, if there could be such a thing as holy envy, the angels might envy our role as overcomers. Even in heaven, a scar may be a badge of honor.
An angel might say to me one day, "Tell us again how the grace of God helped you to overcome your sloth, thoughtlessness and all-around deficient faith!".
And I’ll tell them.
