Tonight I came to the conclusion that life doesn’t make sense.
I look around at this broken world and I wonder what happened? Where did the joy go? Why is there so much suffering and so little hope to combat it? Why is evil so prevalent and why does good seem so small? Is it possible that we, as Christians, lights to the world, can do anything against such a huge sea of darkness? Why does it feel like we’re just candles at midnight – so small and so helpless against the blackness?
I want black and white answers. I want someone to hand me a big book with a beautiful leather cover. I want to open it up, to touch the faded yellow pages and to see strong black ink that has stood the test of time. I want to sit down with that big book heavy on my lap and I want to read it. When I read it, I want to find answers. I want to find hard and fast rules – always do this, never do this. I want to understand the real reasons for pain and suffering and not get a bunch of flaky answers shoved in my face. I just want to know why, why, why.
My friends are hurting. People I pass in stores and on the street are going around with brave smiles and masks that hide deep pain. My family’s hurting. The world is in pain and is broken and is groaning under the weight of all of this suffering.
Are there any answers? Can anybody tell me why so many teenagers – young people with their whole lives ahead of them – why they are in such great mental agony that they want death instead? Can anybody tell me why people hurt and abuse the innocent – sometimes even in their own families? Somebody make sense of the thousands crying for food, for shelter, for peace, for hope, for survival… Why are so many still forgotten and unloved? Is there somebody in this whole wide world who is truly happy? Who hasn’t felt pain? Who can say that they have it all figured out?
I don’t know.
Life doesn’t make sense.
There are no black and white answers.
The world is full of greys and greens and reds and blues.
One question has a thousand different answers.
So what are we going to do? What am I going to do? Will I sit around and wait for the magical book of answers? Or will I go out and try to make a difference in the blackness? Will I choose to let my tiny flame take away a miniscule amount of the dark, or will I cower and hide because I don’t understand and because I don’t have the answers that I seek?
I want to do what’s right. I don’t want to wait for the world to make sense.