a world that cannot wound

I expected university to be a terrible rattling from which I would emerge unscathed. I don't now. When did I stop believing that? Oh, around July. Lemme explain.

In grade nine I carried around a Latin dictionary everywhere. I looked up words in it all the time... both directions. When we were asked to write letters to our future selves, I looked up two words at random and wrote them down without checking the English, and forgot about it for four years.

When we opened our letters, I found the words perterricrepus and imperfossus. Curious as to what they meant, I looked them up. One means "a terrible rattling" and the other "unwounded". Being the superstitious guy I am, I thought, "This was meant to alert me to the experience of university, which I am so fearing! It will be a massive change, but I'll be alright." And that was OK, for then.

In July, I experienced a different sort of terrible rattling--a literal one--and emerged, uh... very much wounded.
"What," I said. "This is not what I expected, life."

But I've been realizing something since then. Of course I haven't gained empathy to the highest degree, I haven't suffered pain like so many have; my pain was excruciating but only in part of me and only for a short time. Still, it's a stepping stone for the beginning of understanding. Believe me, you should never think emotional pain hurts worse than physical pain! They're just two different things. And I've come to see that God protected me even then, in a number of small things that if they had been different, could have been much worse. I was wearing a helmet for the first time in years. The car window was rolled up, so I didn't break my neck by smashing and folding over a moving opening. My physiotherapist spotted on an extremely lucky chance a problem the doctor missed which would have crippled my hand forever if it had been left another week. Small things with great effects. The fact that I was capable of endangering myself so much only strengthens the idea that God is protecting me; even when I throw myself in the fire, He pulls me out!

What I mean is that my spiritual life, my faith, was infinitely strengthened, much like Pascal's after he nearly tumbled to his death when his carriage fell off a bridge. And I realize something. That spiritual world is better.

And though we may suffer a terrible rattling on earth, perhaps our whole life, it is our soul unwounded.
God is watching what matters, regardless of what happens to us down here.