Over the past few weeks, I have found myself trying to make sense of senseless things. Trying to explain injustice. To rationalize the irrational.
And I feel that all I’ve done is twisted my heart into knots. Abused my mind. Shredded my soul. Battered my spirit.
I’ve seen a friend fight an enemy that can neither be seen nor understood. An enemy that has taken away the person I know, and left behind a shell, a stranger.
I have watched hope built, dreams come true. And then watched fear sweep in and blot out all light.
Joy has been quickly followed by sorrow.
Lies and deceit have smothered opportunity.
And here I sit. Desperately searching for understanding. Searching for the words to bring hope and joy and peace. And then realizing that my words can never bring those emotions.
In that realization, there is frustration and anger…and freedom. Freedom to cry with my friends who hurt. To get angry at injustice, not explain it away.
To stop rationalizing. Start praying. Continue mourning.
Lord, don’t be angry and rebuke me!
Don’t punish me in your anger!
I am worn out, O Lord; have pity on me!
Give me strength; I am completely exhausted
and my whole being is deeply troubled.
How long, O Lord, will you wait to help me?
Come and save me, Lord; in your mercy rescue me from death.
In the world of the dead you are not remembered;
no one can praise you there.
I am worn out with grief;
every night my bed is damp from my weeping;
my pillow is soaked with tears.
I can hardly see; my eyes are so swollen
from the weeping caused by my enemies.
Keep away from me, you evil people!
The Lord hears my weeping;
he listens to my cry for help and will answer my prayer.
My enemies will know the bitter shame of defeat;
in sudden confusion they will be driven away.