I Wish I Could Tell You I Had the Answers
I don’t — but you might
I wish I could tell you your suffering had meaning. That in some sort of cosmic game of pin the tale it’s all justified. That you earned it. That you deserve it. That your’e paying for some sort of unremembered past life sin. That this is your karma and that it’s all fair.
It’s not.
And you don’t.
If I could whisper to anyone anything to be of service — to be a light in the darkest of alleys — it’s this.
You’re going to have to give your suffering a purpose. You’re going to have to give your pain a reason. They’ll try and tell you to pray it away but you can’t. You can only make peace of it. You can only drink from the cup that you’ll never understand and do your best to smile at strangers passing by.
You don’t need to fix it. But you do need to walk in it. To stand in it. To not fall to pieces in it. Because even if it’s false — your hope is worth the squeeze. And if ever you should need a hand, well — I think that’s what we’re all here for.
Not i, but the grace of god who is with me — tps
