I took a walk some time ago.  It seems as though it were just yesterday; although, it’s been so many years ago. It wasn’t a very long walk; a score of yards down the back access road of my parent’s Christmas Tree Farm on Old Pumpkin Ridge. My mind was deep in thought as I trampled down the green grass that was growing between the constantly disturbed tire tracks of the dirt road. The sun warmed my face and gently the fall breeze carried the red/gold leaves off the trees to carpet my walk. Halfway down the careworn road, I stopped and turned my face to the blue patch of sky peeking into the canopy of trees above me and began to weep. “Why me” I asked. “Why can’t I understand? In spite of how hard I try, nothing seems to work. Why?”

As a child I was entranced with the beautiful wonder of music. I loved to sing, music was my passion. And at the age of three I would load an album onto the turntable, plug in a microphone, set the needle, and sing along as the music played. But then, something happened that totally changed my life. At the age of five I began to lose my hearing.  By the age of seven I could no longer hear without the most powerful hearing aids available. Every day I fought for every ounce of independence I could get. I could not allow myself to succumb to utter dependency. Every day was a struggle to comprehend as patiently my family and friends repeated themselves time and time again. Gradually my persistence paid off and I learned to translate the many different faces, gestures, position of the eyelids, and movements of the mouth into words that had meaning. But the fight had just begun.

I had conquered the initial struggle, but there another battle arose. I could only comprehend one person at a time; I had to have the total, active attention of the person speaking. So many times I would walk up to a group of people and focus all of my energy into listening for half an hour and get absolutely nothing out of the discussion; unless, someone turned and spoke directly to me. This constant failure seemed to be a waste of time and energy. So here I was at the age of sixteen; tired and frustrated with the struggle to comprehend, without results.  So I took that walk down that road to find peace among the gliding leaves and gentle sunlight filtered through the trees. I was seeking answers to a problem that at the moment seemed to overwhelm my world.  “Why?” I asked the drifting cloud “why?”

The answer came softly into my mind as though it were another leaf drifting through the sky. It wasn’t anything phenomenal or profound. It was simply this, “Life is a struggle.  If you live; you win” I realized then that my constant failure to fit into a group was not really a failure.  I had learned to step back and reflect, to see my surroundings for what they really were. To see the needs in the heart of each individual and pour my heart into those needs. For then my struggle became insignificant, and my burden became light.

I found the silver side of the clouds that day and I will never forget that walk through the trees. I struggle still, and so may you, but the Creator promised to never burden us with more than we can handle. It is in those difficult moments that we see our weakness, and gain the power to go beyond them. Every one of us is unique; we all have our individual struggle—whatever it may be. However, it’s the struggle that makes us strong. So faint not and struggle on; for the race is not to the strong, or to the swift, but to them who cross the finish line.