Difficulties go with the territory

"Days like today make nursing look good," remarked a normally perky cashier at a variety store. Today, she seemed nervous and agitated. After I listened to her abbreviated story while she scanned my items; I concluded what she said was true of all undertakings.

The cashier had grown tired of the nursing profession for various reasons -- long hours, hard work and burnout in general. She thought a job elsewhere would suit her better. Today had proved otherwise. The cash register had broken down, she experienced a long delay in obtaining a price check for a customer, and her register ran out of paper. All those calamities prompted a long line at her station. Since she'd also been forced to work an extra-long day she was ready to give up.

As I sympathized with her predicament I recognized we all encounter similar incidents. There is no perfect job. There is no perfect anything. One has to do the best he can. When undesirable situations occur at work, home or elsewhere, they are often simply part of the territory -- a small part of the whole picture. Jobs, family life or vacations usually have ups and downs. Admitting this allows us to continue with whatever we are doing and refuse to allow glitches to deter us from something we otherwise love.

Although people can realize their dreams by believing in God and themselves, the path to achieving those dreams has difficulties. They are part of the territory. Life isn't perfect now and we will only reach excellence when we are eternally in the arms of God.

We have to make a conscious effort to keep on, even when we wonder how we can. We thought we knew what we wanted but now discover it, too, has blemishes.

A relative, Emma, has a husband residing in a nursing home. She's saddened because she's unable to bring him home. Nevertheless, she must keep doing the best she can to experience any quality of life herself. I talked with her recently, asking her what she was up to.

"I'm putting groceries away," she said. She had already spent time with her husband that day. "You know," she continued, "it's hard to keep everything up at home when you're all by yourself." She has few relatives near her. Her one adult child lives quite a distance away. Emma considers what she does as a God-given duty -- something she ought to do because it's the right thing.

Although placing someone in a nursing facility is rarely a preferred choice, it frequently goes with the territory of the cycles of life. As with other situations, rather than continuously feeling despondent because people must reside in a treatment facility, we can believe we are doing the best we can, do it, and attempt to create a life for ourselves in which we can find some pleasure. Rather than being unkind, taking such a stance frees us to add to the life of the disabled person, ourselves and others.

After adopting this outlook and receiving encouragement from others, Emma finally visited her son and his family. Although she felt guilty at leaving, she carefully made arrangements for others to visit her husband during her absence. Rather than stop living, she's trying to accept the situation as a major part of her present life -- but not the whole of it.

Anything one accomplishes entails an amount of undesirable baggage, but you can't afford to forgo what you love simply because that baggage is "only part of the territory." Keep your eyes on the goal ahead, and, as Paul says, "Fight the good fight."

Ellen Shuck is affiliated with St. Mary's Cathedral.