I watched a movie last night, only the second one since the accident. Somehow watching movies by yourself after years of watching them together is not what it used to be. But I had a copy of “The King’s Speech” and finally popped it in last night.
In this true account, King George V has died and his son, Prince Edward, abdicates the throne in order to marry Wallis Simpson, a soon-to-be second-time divorcee. Edward’s younger brother, played by Colin Firth, who struggles with a debilitating speech impediment, realizes that now by default, he must now reign as King of the British Empire. There is a scene in which he sits at his desk, a mass of paperwork before him, none of which he understands. His wife enters to check on him and he breaks down, overwhelmed with what lies before him. Stricken that a life he did not want has now forced itself upon him, the full weight of his future stares him straight in the face. He has no choice but to walk this agonizing journey, feeling inadequate and unprepared. Trapped by the reality of his position. Chained to circumstances he knows he cannot run from.
And although I will never rule an empire, his tears were my tears.
I cannot run. I cannot ignore. I cannot pretend. I am where I am and there is no changing any of it. I, like so many others in so many situations, are chained to circumstances not of my choosing. And in those circumstances I find myself faced with two choices: I can allow it to soften me, to change me for the better, or I can allow it to harden me. And so I pray, Lord, wherever I can be better…a better parent, a better friend, a better person…allow it to be so. Do not let me waste these circumstances. Even as I grieve and question you, even as I long for my husband, my friend, for the father of my children, do not let me miss what you have to say next. In this darkness, do not let me miss the beauty of your stars.
It would be so easy to miss the beauty.