end of story.

Kevin and I had the opportunity to listen to Dr. Ed Welch speak at a conference recently.

Among the topics were mental illnesses and brain disorders and depression.  Gray Matters was the title of the weekend conference, which I found a fitting name.

There was an overflow of information and plenty to wade through for many a day.

(Which we have been doing in big and small ways.)

I was particularly struck by the manner in which Dr. Welch shared anecdotes.

He’s been in counseling for nearly as many years as I have been alive so his real-life examples are vast.

And in every story he shared he would stop talking at about the point I wanted a lovely conclusion.  Like – in a novel – right before the final wrap up.  In a movie – right before the characters ride off into the sunset.

His story would seem to always end with the protagonist still in the throes of struggle. Maybe stumbling in the pit of depression, maybe making baby steps in controlling anger, maybe beginning to balance the woes of life with ADHD.

Each time,

mid-story,

Dr. Welch would stop,

seemingly mid-sentence,

lean forward on his podium and say,

“end of story”.

That’s it guys.

The man would simply say “end of story” as if the story had ended well.  As if there was a tidy bow and a smile.

Except.

There wasn’t.

At first, I thought it was kind of a speaker mistake.

But as story after story was shared and they all ended up the same, I recognized it as a pattern.

And,

as a lover of happily ever after,

I kind of couldn’t stand it.

I wanted to stomp my feet and pout a little.  To release me inner three-year-old.

But then my forty-one year old realism set in.

He’s right.

Of course he is.

His real life decades of counseling have proven it.

My real life has proven it too.

What’s real, what’s true, is the struggle.

What’s real is the battle in our brains and in our hearts

to love compassionately

to move toward Jesus

to be about peace.

What is beautiful

is the struggle

the fight

the tiny victories

and the knowledge

that every

day

is going to be

a battle.

That the hope doesn’t rest exclusively in the present.

The truth isn’t found in the prognosis.

As fellow sufferers and comrades in the frail state of humanity,

we move toward one another.

We move toward suffering people.

We recognize that we are more alike than we are different.

We share the same fears and we need the same rescue.

End of story.