quiet desperation

"The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation" - Henry David Thoreau

About every two weeks, the librarian asks a staff member at the school where I work to brings items which are descriptive of the time that staff member was in high school as well as items that represent significant events/things in the staff member's life. My items are on display in the library right now. It is pretty cool to look at. Some of the things in the display case are: a high school yearbook(turned to the page where I am pictured as "most likely to succeed"); plaques for debate and being my high school's student body president; my college diploma; several medals for an oratorical contest, being a Renaissance scholar, sing song, university scholar, etc.; counseling textbooks; a hymnal; Zoe Group CDs and songbooks; a composite of my fraternity; Lance Armstrong's two books; about six Sports Illustrated magazines with Lance on the cover; and my favorite book - The Chosen. I look at the display case and am proud of all of the things those items represent, but there's something wrong today...

There is a baby with a congenital diaphragmatic hernia in New York City that I have been thinking about. This baby is being lifted up in prayer by many people. I reflect upon that situation and wonder why it is occurring. It pains my heart that the parents of the child are going through such an ordeal - and I don't even know them well. That situation makes all of my successes seem trivial. That baby doesn't care about succeeding or getting awards or getting educated - he responds to the caring touch of his parents, the love that they have for him, and (I believe) the prayers that are being said on his behalf.

My desperation (for today) comes from the thought that I should view myself as helpless as that little baby and rely on those things that he is being surrounded by: love (from family, friends, and God), hope (for his physical and spiritual future), and faith (that the Master of the Universe is in control). And yet these 29 years have brought me so far away from that.

It is not my intention to offend anyone by this post. I am trying to work out all the things this little baby and his struggle are teaching me. I want to say thank you to him for reminding me of what is really important (even if, like an adult that I am, I forget all too soon).