By Maya Bryant
My family likes to say that tragedy strikes in threes: If one thing goes wrong, two others (big or small) are bound to follow. And when they happen to you, they’re Tests. There’s something you need to learn to grow, and hardship might be the only way to do that.
The three Tests this month are wearing me down. On the weekend of June 3, on my way to see my boyfriend in Madison, Wisconsin, my car decided it no longer wanted to accelerate 45 minutes away from his apartment. I was revving the engine and crying panicked tears as I slowly followed behind an RV the rest of the way.
My dad is a mechanic and very tech savvy, so I called him and did everything he said to try to fix it on my own, but to no avail, of course. I took it in to a local mechanic, and they said that I might need a new transmission, which averages about $5,000, something a 24-year-old working at a religious institution definitely cannot afford. I literally rolled in on June 3 and could not leave until June 8.
“The place you are in needs you today.”
On the afternoon of June 5, my mother called me and told me that she plans to call someone about my cat. I’ve had my cat, Joey, since I was nine years old. Recently, he’s lost weight because of digestive issues. But, apparently during the days that I had been gone, he got progressively worse. He stopped eating the day I left. When I got home, I could feel his bones under his fur. He wasn’t like that just five days before.
My mother was torn; she was raised on a farm, and animals on a farm either die on their own or run away. This is the first time my family has had to decide whether to actively euthanize a pet.
JUNE 13 MARKS THE two-year anniversary of my grandmother Marlys’ death. She was the family matriarch, a force to be reckoned with, and an extremely devout Lutheran. She brought joy and snacks for everyone everywhere she went. We couldn’t host her funeral in the church she’d been a member of for decades because of the pandemic; we couldn’t invite any friends or long-distance family to attend for fear of COVID spread.
We were stuck. And now I was stuck. Stuck on how to proceed, how to move. I felt immobilized, unable to do anything because I feared that something else would fall apart, or that maybe I would.
I sat down at my desk at the synod office last Thursday morning – after an almost six-hour journey home from Madison – and sighed, ready to leave after just arriving. I glanced over to the right side of my desk. I keep a little box of quotes by inspirational leaders there. And sitting on top was a quote from writer Katherine Logan. It said: “The place you are in needs you today.”
“Grandma Marlys brought joy and snacks for everyone everywhere she went.”
I hadn’t placed it on the top of the pile, and I didn’t know who did. I stared at it for a few minutes. I wasn’t sure how to take that. Does it mean my emotional state? Does it mean my physical presence? Does it mean my experiences?
I’m still thinking about it. But I’m going to give myself the grace to be my fullest self within my capabilities as I learn from these three Tests. I’m going to let myself feel all the feelings and frustrations. I’m going to let myself be where I’m at because maybe that’s the place I’m in. And I’m needed there.