Triumph Is Impossible

Archived From March 2010 But stll true today!

I love watching movies about the tragedy in people’s lives.  My mom would ask me, “Why in the world would you watch that movie?!  That’s a terrible movie!”  The more tragic the story line, the more I sit and hang on to every single word.  And when it reaches the end, and I wipe the tears, I grab me another cup of hot tea and comtemplate watching it all over again. 

Sick and twisted, perhaps.  To wallow in someones horrific life–and then to find some excitement and joy in it.  So much so, to relive it–over and over and over again.  Sick. Sick Sick.

But to me, stories of tragedy are stories of a beautiful journey.  A journey in life, through life, about life.  A journey that is unique, as unique as the indvidual that travels it.  How amazing that each of us has our own story.

I often ask people, “So what’s your story?” and I get the ins and outs of yearly travels and job opportunities.  But the few brave will go beyond the Table of Contents of their lives and tell me their tragedy.

I embrace each moment of sadness, every fear submitted to.  I feel it. I’m there with them.  In the movies, in the conversations, my heart breaks, I cry real tears, with real emotion.  God has blessed me, or cursed me, with tremendous empathy for people in their unforseen circumstances.  And as I watch them retell the stories of their lives, I witness the transformation of their spirits.  I see their growth living along side uncertain immaturaties with every dictated word. 

I hold tight to that one defining moment where they either turn back, or take a step forward.  My heart races as I go along with them on their journey from tragedy to triumph.  And in that beautiful moment, where they leap with faith, I experience their joy.  And that joy is what hooks me. Every. Single. Time.  I can take the horrible, life sucking pieces of this world, as long as their is hope for a triumphant joy in the end. 

And their is always Triumphant Joy.  Even if it is unrealized, unspoken, unacknowledged–in Christ Jesus, there is Triumphant Joy.  Hope Remains.  I hear it in their voices,  I see it in their eyes, there was Hope that got them through the valley.  And as they live and breathe to tell about it–whether it be divorce, death, abuse, victimization, or the inability to truly find themselves–to them, it’s tragedy.  I love tragedy.  For triumph is impossible without it!


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