I don’t remember when I first came across Jillian Benfield’s book The Gift of the Unexpected. I am sure it sat in my Amazon Wish List for at least a year, maybe two, before I finally purchased it. It appealed to me, originally, because it’s, in part, a story about a woman with a child who has a disability. I have a child who is autistic, which came with all kinds of challenges in life that were unexpected. I finally bought it because of another life-altering, unexpected circumstance.
I think most of us go through the unexpected multiple times—even the unexpected in extreme measure. At the end of each chapter, Benfield poses questions. I’ve had a hard time answering some of them because I’ve already learned a lot of the lessons she’s trying to convey from all of the other unexpected or hard things I’ve been through in life. I feel like the furnace of affliction has refined me into someone who is more resilient. Not perfect, not without flaws, emotions, weakness or difficulties, but resilience and a belief in who I am. I am a child of God, and He is the one who has given me peace and strength.
Yet, I realized that there is more to this most recent unexpected event that a single person, a single betrayal, a single event. What has been the most unexpected is how others have reacted to it. The person who said they would text or call to check up on me every day, who never did because they thought I was making the wrong choice. The person who said they would remain a friend no matter what—because that’s what friends do, then abandoned us when they learned what they thought was the truth (without actually getting the real story). The people who say they love and care, throw a few bucks at us, then say, “Well, it’s not my fault.” The people who testify of Christ-like love, forgiveness and compassion, then have a million excuses as to why they don’t have to live any of those beliefs in this particular circumstance. Those are the unexpected events that I am struggling with. Those are the unexpected events that are taking a toll and challenging me and my beliefs in humanity. And those are the unexpected events that are gifting me even more resilience and resolve to truly live my beliefs, to become a better person and transform into who God knows I can be.
In her book, Benfield writes, “It took losing what once was to birth the beauty that now is.” I have lost friends and family. But were they really friends and family in the first place? If at the first sign of the unexpected they, not only bailed, but left destruction in their wake? I often go back to Shinedown’s song Daylight. “It’s amazing what the hard times can reveal. Like who shows up, who walks away and who’s for real.” I know who’s real. And I know who isn’t. And I can see the beauty of God and life more clearly now because of it. The unexpected is teaching me to rely more on the Savior and the people I know are going to still be here even when life is hard and the unexpected storm is raging. It reminds me of this picture a friend of mine gave me of the Savior reaching out to someone who is drowning. Sometimes we do drown. And Christ is always there extending a hand to help pull us out.
We can be that hand, too. Despite the pain of learning how many people aren’t really what they pretend to be, I’ve also seen God’s hand lifting and strengthening me and my little family through others who are true examples of what I want to emulate. One of the questions Benfield asks is, “Who do I want to become?” I want to become someone who makes a difference in the world—even if the world is nothing more than my own children and husband. Who do you want to become? And what gifts have you found through the unexpected?