The Gravity of the "Why" in Life

Jewish psychiatrist, Viktor Frankl, was arrested by the Nazis in 1944 during World War II and was put in Auschwitz, the infamous death camp.  He was stripped of everything: property, family, possessions — and a manuscript he had spent years researching and writing on finding meaning in life. The manuscript had been sewn into the lining of his coat.

“Now it seemed as if nothing and no one would survive me; neither a physical nor a spiritual child of my own,” Frankl wrote. “I found myself confronted with the question of whether under such circumstances my life was ultimately void of any meaning.”

A few days later, the Nazis forced the prisoners to give up what little clothing they still wore. “I had to surrender my clothes and in turn inherited the worn-out rags of an inmate who had been sent to the gas chamber,” said Frankl. “Instead of the many pages of my manuscript, I found in the pocket of the newly acquired coat a single page torn out of a Hebrew prayer book, which contained the Jewish prayer ‘Shema Yisrael’ (Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is one God. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.)

“How should I have interpreted such a ‘coincidence’ other than as a challenge to ‘live’ my thoughts instead of merely putting them on paper?”

Frankl later reflected on his ordeal in Man’s Search for Meaning, saying, “There is nothing in the world that would so effectively help one to survive even the worst conditions, as the knowledge that there is meaning in one’s life. . . . He who has a ‘why’ to live for can bear almost any ‘how.’ ”

 — Based on Viktor Frankl, 
Man’s Search for Meaning (Pocket, 1997)

Must Forgive

Vivian Malone, a young black woman, enrolled as a student at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa in 1963. Federal troops helped ensure her entrance into the school, but Governor George Wallace tried to block her way. He made a dramatic stand in the school's doorway, physically carrying out his inaugural vow of "Segregation now, segregation tomorrow and segregation forever." When he failed, Malone became the first African-American student ever to graduate from the University of Alabama.

Years later, Governor Wallace was taken in his wheelchair to Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, where he asked black people to forgive him for his racism, bigotry, and specifically his ill-treatment of Vivian Malone. He asked Malone for forgiveness. Malone said she had forgiven the governor years before.

"He said he did what he felt needed to be done at that point in time, but he would not do that today," she later recalled. "I spoke of forgiveness."

When asked why she had done that, Malone said, “I’m a Christian, and I grew up in the church. I was taught that we are all equal in the eyes of God. I was also taught that you forgive people, no matter what. And that was why I had to do it. I didn’t feel as if I had a choice.”

Malone Jones (her married name) died in 2005 at the age of 63.

 — “Transition — Vivian Malone Jones,” 
Newsweek (October 24, 2005)

Resistant to Cure? Not Really.

Every day, at exactly the same time, Margaret would go to the bathroom cabinet, open it, and take out a huge bottle of castor oil. Then she would head to the kitchen to get a tablespoon. At the sound of the drawer opening and the silverware rattling, Patches, her Yorkshire terrier, would run and hide — sometimes under the bed, at other times in the bathtub or behind Margaret’s recliner.

Someone had convinced Margaret that Patches would have strong teeth, a beautiful coat, and a long life if she gave him a spoonful of castor oil every day. So, as an act of love every twenty-four hours, she cornered Patches, pinned him down, pried open his mouth, and poured a tablespoon of castor oil down his little doggie throat. Neither Patches nor Margaret enjoyed their daily wrestling match.

Then one day, in the middle of their battle royal, with one sideways kick, Patches sent the dreaded bottle of castor oil flying across the kitchen floor. It was a momentary victory for the canine, as Margaret let him go so she could run to the pantry and grab a towel to clean up the mess.

When Margaret got back, she was utterly shocked. There was Patches licking up the spilled castor oil with a look of satisfaction only a dog can make. Margaret began to laugh uncontrollably. In one moment, it all made sense. Patches liked castor oil. He just hated being pinned down and having it poured down his throat.

 — Kevin G. Harney, 
Seismic Shifts (Zondervan, 2005)

Peace Despite Life's Pain

Horatio Spafford, a successful lawyer and real-estate investor, was a father of five. Tragedy first struck him and his family when his only son died of Scarlet fever at a young age. Then the year after, when the loss was still in their mind, a devastating fire destroyed most of the properties he had invested in.

Wanting to get some needed break from all their pain, Spafford arranged for him and his family to sail and have a vacation. But since he had things to attend to at the last minute, he sent his wife and daughters ahead of him. Sadly, several days later, news came to him that the ship they were on had a collision and his four daughters died.

Spafford, soon after and despite all these tragedies,  wrote these words that have since became a famous hymn, lifting up grieving hearts over centuries:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul.

It is well (it is well),with my soul (with my soul),

It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,

Let this blest assurance control,

That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,

And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought!

My sin, not in part but the whole,

Is nailed to His cross, and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:

If Jordan above me shall roll,

No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life

Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

And Lord haste the day, 

when my faith shall be sight,

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;

The trump shall resound, 

and the Lord shall descend,

Even so, it is well with my soul.

Not So Difficult Choice

A soldier undergoing training in Fort Benning, Georgia was one day put in a difficult situation.  He received a package from home containing cookies, one of those things that the trainees were not allowed to have in the campsite.  

After a roll call, the drill sergeant found out this soldier’s offense.  Therefore, the sergeant gave him a choice of throwing the cookies out or eating them while he did one-arm pushups.  To everyone’s surprise, he chose the latter.  As everyone watched in amazement, the soldier looked up and said through a mouthful of cookies, “This is a breeze compared to what my mother would do if she heard that I threw her cookies out.”

- Steve May, The Story File (Hendrickson, 2000)

I Remember You

Roger Zerbe, who suffered from early onset Alzheimer’s disease, journaled this to his wife after a particularly troubling bout of forgetfulness.

Honey,
Today fear is taking over. The day is coming when all my memories of this life we share will be gone. You and the boys will be gone from me. I will lose you even as I am surrounded by you and your love. I don’t want to leave you. I want to grow old in the warmth of memories. Forgive me for leaving so slowly and painfully.

Blinking back tears, Becky wrote:

My sweet husband,
I will continue to go on loving you and caring for you — not because you know me or remember our life, but because I remember you. I will remember the man who proposed to me and told me he loved me, the look on his face when his children were born, the father he was, the way he loved our extended family. I’ll recall his love for riding, hiking, and reading; his tears at sentimental movies; the unexpected witty remarks; and how he held my hand while he prayed. I cherish the pleasure, obligation, commitment, and opportunity to care for you because I remember you!

 — Becky Zerbe, “Penning a Marriage,” 
Marriage Partnership (Spring 2006)