Black and White (Makes Grey)

I am so angry.

This confession takes me by complete surprise, because generally I am not. But I will be discussing God or people or the wrongs in the world, and I find myself fighting back tears spontaneously. Because, you see, there is so much injustice, and you see, if anyone decided to step back and not fight,

if anyone had the means of stopping the murders, the rapes, the hunger, the genocides, the destruction of spirit and religion and culture, the deaths of children and the pride of men, if anyone could watch eight to ten people cram into houses with no food, no medication, no access to education, if anyone could have complete power to change this, who would not? 

What kind of God would not? There is so much that needs to be interceded, so much suffering. "suffering" do we even know this word? The physical, spiritual implications of the inhumane beating that a birthplace could assign? The hundreds of ignored people, sleeping on packed dirt, and rationing the last pieces of bread to family members. The burning, the drowning, the homeless, the starving-- who is watching these? 

What is the reason? "Sin"? I feel set up. Because, you see-- here we are. Born human. (And, really what is it to be human? To mess up, to discover, to apologize, to learn and try again and live!) Born 'sinful'. Do I really think the crime matches the punishment? I don't think so.

Yet, I see the beauty as well, so I know that God-- whoever he is, this God that I claim to love and whom claims to love me, has the propensity for mercy. That he is good. 

But what I don't quite understand is how I am supposed to see myself as 'evil' for simply being the way I was created and born to be-- human. Imperfect. 

What I don't understand is how to claim the immovable love of God when so many are waiting to be loved.

Grey (Anecdote to Bitterness)

so it has come to this.

remember this. you cannot take all the sadness away.

you are not strong enough.

no matter how strong you are (and I believe, you are, ever so strong)

so now, as a writer, I am supposed to write the words to tell you this, to show you really.

so when you, future reader, see this and feel the odd combination of guilt and hope that comes with wanting to fix the broken things: you cannot.

this is not something I am telling you to discourage, but to free you. Be happy. Remove as much pain as you can from this world, from those who are hurting, but don't be so overwhelmed that their sadnesses melt into you and you are consumed by it.

Be happy. Add joy in every way you can, paint and shout and be deliriously happy. Take care of your soul, don't let it shrivel in anger, don't let it become bitter with all the pain you see. Because all those hurting need you to stay hopeful, to cling to whatever is idealistic if they will have hope of change.

Don't let anger turn into bitterness. It sounds so easy, I know. How does one go about keeping their soul from bitterness? 

add as much joy as you can, take away as much sadness as you can. And hopefully, in the end, someone somewhere will have lived a little more, with a little more dignity.