I've been listening to a lot of rock music lately. Spotify has been recommending me some good, solid music from some random artists and I really love it. I can understand sometimes the anguish that comes from the screams of those songs. I can understand the cries for justice, for hope in the pain, for some kind of healing in the mess. Rock music can be gut wrenching real when it comes to anger and pain.
I can understand those screams.
It mirrors my own anger and sadness and sometimes aching rage at the darkness.
I watch little kids become miniatures of their addict parents, of suicidal teenagers, and girls giving up their innocent for a boy's lust.
I want to cry because it's like a foreseen train wreck that I cannot stop no matter how hard I try.
I always was excited for adult life because I thought adults had all the answers. My mom was superwoman in my eyes - she always did see to know what to do, how to fix what was broken, how to heal the boo boos and pain. I couldn't wait until that was me...until it wasn't and is never going to be.
I'm never going to have all the answers...and in all honesty no one does. It's just a little girl's idea of adulting gone wrong.


So I'm not going to pretend otherwise.
But I'm learning to be with people in their pain. For me that is the only thing I can do -- walk with people in their pain.
One of the most beautiful, gratifying, healing things is people walking with you in your pain. Over vacation my friend sat with me and asked me about my depression and honestly wanted to hear me and my story and help me towards healing.
She didn't offer answers.
I wouldn't have wanted her to.
She just offered love and friendship in the pain and that was enough.
When you are in pain you don't want people to try and offer answers because sometimes there is no true answer. You don't want them to pretend they know what you're going through...unless they really do.
You just want them to sit there with you in the pain and sometimes the rage and brokenness.
I hate it that I can't offer up answers for this broken world. It kills me. Sometimes I want to shut myself in my room and never come out until things are better, until little kids aren't trying to kill themselves, until parents stop abandoning their children, until siblings stop beating on each other, until divorce and hatred does not exist with those I love.
But it's never going to end...until the end.
And it's not the end, so I will try and sit with people in their brokenness. I can understand their anger and pain at the darkness. It's a monster seeking to devour.
But I know there is a Light at the end of the tunnel.
We're just not there yet.
Soon maybe, just not yet.