When you come to the edge
Of all the light you know,
And are about to step off
Into the darkness of the unknown,
Faith is knowing one of two things will happen:
There will be something solid to stand on
Or you will be taught how to fly.
Barbara J Winter
Sometimes we are given our greatest gifts by experiencing the worst events in our lives.
My inspiration today comes from watching the Netflix movie, “Fundamentals of a Caregiver.”
In the story, thirty-something-year-old Ben Benjamin, who is an author who no longer writes and a father who no longer has a family, has taken a job as a caregiver to a teenage boy named Trevor, who has Muscular Dystrophy and is confined to a wheelchair.
Both Ben and Trevor share the commonality of not living in the present.
Ben can not comprehend the events of his past.
The loss of his young son has paralyzed his life.
Trevor can not comprehend his foreboding future; and the random and unfairness of it all.
They both are in a bad place in their lives.
Each is in a grief ditch, one in which neither can seem to climb out of.
With each passing day, grief deepens their respective ditches in their lives.
The statistics of Trevor’s disease say his health will progressively get worse, and ultimately he will die a premature death.
Ben has been dead ever since he lost his son.
The universe has orchestrated chaotic events to bring each into the others lives.
Ironically, more out of need than design, Ben has taken a job to take care of another human being when it is quite obvious that he can hardly take care of himself.
Trevor, who all has but succumbed to his fate and demise has allowed Ben to see the vast difference between merely existing and truly being alive.
After months of taking care of Trevor; waking him up at the same time, bathing, stretching and dressing him the same way, preparing the same meal for him to eat while watching the same TV show within the same four walls each day, Ben frustratingly asked Trevor,
“Don’t you get tired of all this? Doing the same thing each day.”
He continued, “This isn’t living. This is existing. Don’t you want to go somewhere, do something?”
Trevor then reveals to Ben his map of roadside attractions that he has privately kept.
Ben notices one roadside attraction is circled, with a big star near it he asks Trevor, “What’s this one?”
“That is the The Worlds Deepest Pit,” he says.
He adds that he’s drawn to the name because of how depressing it sounds.
“Wouldn’t it be great to take a road trip and see it in in person?” Ben asks.
Which they do.
After traveling for days across the country, they finally arrive at the “The Worlds Deepest Pit.”
They climb the steps to the tower and look over the guard rail down into the “Worlds Deepest Pit,” and a funny thing happens.
They prepared to look into the darkness of an abyss and unexpectedly the magnificence of the universe appeared instead.
To their surprise, the “Worlds Deepest Pit” is filled with pristine aqua blue water.
They are mesmerized by what they see.
Time stands still.
Their only desire is to appreciate the moment.
Ben no longer carries the burden of his past while Trevor lets go of his fear of the future.
Having a sick child is much like being on a journey to the “Worlds Deepest Pit.”
When one looks into the abyss, the absolute worst in life, expecting only to see ruin and destruction, life’s beauty is revealed instead.
The journey has a way of making both the past and future inconsequential, compared to the magnificence of this moment.
I have looked over the guard rail of my life a couple of times in my journey with the “Worlds Deepest Pit,” and each time when I saw no foundation for my footing for my next step, a single stair miraculously appeared.