I Want to Live Again

This post will make more sense to you if you’ve seen the Frank Capra Christmas classic “It’s a Wonderful Life.” If you haven’t seen it, what exactly have you been doing? I can’t fathom…

George Bailey’s life wasn’t glamorous. It was the kind of life you and I live–mostly simple, with moments of miraculous and seasons of struggle. But after George experienced a crisis wherein he found out what it was like to not have that life–to be removed from all he built and loved, he begged his guardian angel to return him to his ordinary existence.

“Get me back. I don’t care what happens to me. Get me back to my wife and kids. Help me, Clarence, please. I want to live again. I want to live again. I want to live again. Let me live again.”

Along with fear and destruction, COVID-19 brings an unsought opportunity to see and do differently. Can we, like George Bailey, emerge from crisis triumphant, grateful for a chance to live our ordinary lives again? Let’s take a walk in George’s shoes, and see what Bedford Falls has to teach us.

The lure of panic and the voice of reason. When the market crashed in October 1929, financial institutions shut their doors. In Bedford Falls, neighbors rushed to the Bailey Building and Loan, panic stricken, and demanded their money. George, ever the voice of reason, pleaded with them, “I beg of you not to do this thing. Don’t you see what’s happening? Potter isn’t selling, he’s buying. And why? Because we’re panicking and he’s not. Now, we can get through this thing all right. We’ve got to stick together, though. We’ve got to have faith in each other.”

I thought of this scene early on in this pandemic, when panic buying ensued. I thought of Tom, demanding his $252 dollars and nothing less, and of Miss Davis, who demurely asked George, “Could I have $17.50?” Panic pushes us to seek only our own good. But we’ve seen George’s voice of reason borne out through all this. Communities and neighborhoods have rallied their resources and talents to care for one another. It has been inspiring, and it’s the way we will get through this thing all right. Be a Miss Davis, not a Tom.

Taking care of family and community requires sacrifice. George is such an admirable character because, time after time, he sacrifices his own desires to care for those he loves and those less able. He pulled his brother from the freezing pond, and lost the hearing in his left ear. He gave up college to save the Building and Loan, provide for his family, and serve his town. He never traveled like he dreamed of. With his time, energy, and resources, he built and sustained a family and a whole community.

When we commit to family and community building, we embark on a path of sacrifice. Today’s sacrifice involves staying at home when we’d rather not, washing our hands more often, wearing masks. It’s sharing valuable resources like toilet paper. It’s being patient with children who are at home rather than in school. It’s patronizing local businesses. This is the way we build the institutions that in turn sustain us.

We don’t appreciate what we have until it’s gone. The whole plot of “It’s a Wonderful Life” centers around George learning what it means to not have your life as you know it. His mother and wife didn’t know him, his children didn’t exist, and he never impacted people for good. What an effective way to illustrate how complacent we become, how we cavalierly take for granted the gifts of our daily lives.

Before COVID-19, my Sundays were predictable. I’d attend church in my neighborhood then spend the rest of the day at my parents’ home, eating dinner, relaxing, connecting with my brothers, sisters-in-law, nieces, and nephews. The last Sunday I experienced like this was March 8th. Mom and Dad are on a stay safe lock-down (#protectMomandDad), and I haven’t entered their home since then. If I’d known on March 8th what I know now, I would have hugged them tighter and lingered longer.

Often, we don’t have a chance to get back what we’ve lost. But George was restored to his wonderful life, and I will be restored to mine and you to yours. Let’s cherish it.

The power of prayer and community. The movie opens with George’s family and friends praying for him. It closes with the Bailey home flooded with these same people, supporting the man and the family that had sacrificed for them.

Prayer brought divine intervention in the form of angel second class Clarence Odbody. Community brought salvation through financial means and love. Prayer and community are saving us now. God cares for His children, and one way He’s intervening to help us is through ministering angels like health care professionals, scientists, leaders, teachers, and ladies who sew.

The sanctity of home. The Bailey Building and Loan was a modest business endeavor with a heroic heart. The Baileys made it possible for humble people to own a home, a home of their own where they weren’t at the mercy of Potter. When the Martinis moved into their own home in Bailey Park, Mr. Martini proudly stated, “No more we live like pigs in this Potter’s field!” A potter’s field is a pauper’s graveyard; this is what the Martinis escaped, ennobled instead by a home they worked for and maintained with pride.

Here we are, sequestered in our homes. I’ve never spent this much sustained time in my home. And I’ve never been more grateful for this safe and comfortable shelter. Homes are sacred, protective spaces when we actively invest to make them such.

In the moment when George is trying to figure out what to do about the market crash, he stands before a picture of his father and a saying: “All you can take with you is that which you’ve given away.”

Like George Bailey, I want to live again the life I knew. But, actually, I want to live it better. Like George Bailey, I want to learn the lessons my crisis experience is offering. Like George Bailey, I want to live a life of giving because it’s what makes life wonderful.