Tomorrow.

"Is it more mature
To reflect
on self
or bigger concepts?
Is it more important
to learn from personal experience
or from the history all around you?
A look in the mirror
or the sound of gunfire from every generation.
What meaning can we extract
from everything
our senses perceive?
The private tragedy,
The public outrage,
a friend's rebellious word,
a world leader's command?
Who are we
what right have we
to judge
or to question?
What right have we not,
to judge
or to question?
Right and wrong
are different.
Depending on where you are.
Black and white,
a muddled gray.
Left is right,
right is left,
up is down,
down is up.
Distracted by aesthetics.
Distracted by the trivial.
Slam our faces in reality,
Escape into fantasy.
Defense mechanism.
What is real
what is not?
no.
direction.
But
there is.
even if that Direction
is often
denied.

Doubt comes easy
with all that's around us,
but there's the beauty
rising from ashes.
The Constant
that keeps us,
from going insane.
when everything else
threatens to topple us
all
to the ground.

How do we grow?
What makes us grow the most?
the fires that burn and make the soil fertile."

-poem from my Stories and Other Writing blog, 5/30/2011

Tomorrow, as many of us are aware, is the tenth anniversary 9/11/01, a day that is forever seared into American history, and the memory of all who were alive on that day. It is one of the many tragedies that occurred, a national tragedy, an internationally known event, something that sparked many more like itself, and it was not only a tragedy to a nation... but to individuals. To families and friends and families and friends who would later lose loved ones in events related to this one.

I can't help but think of loss in general, and how it is all around us, every single day. How every human being either is, or will be, personally effected by the loss of a loved one through death sometime in the future. I can't help but think of all the people I know who have experienced that sort of loss, and of all the strangers who are experiencing it right now. Grief and pain and shock and ache and I can't possibly imagine what they are going through. How it may dull over time, but never go away. Survivor's guilt. Anger. All those stages, the bargaining... how hard it must be to reach "acceptance". I simply cannot imagine it. Right now, reading memorials and tributes to a person I likely never met, considering what an incredible person this person seems to have been, I almost wish I would have known him. Had I seen him before? Probably. I never knew him, though. But I know people who did. He was so young... so full of... life and potential and compassion and wit and intelligence... and yet, no one knew his true thoughts.

And the man who was lost when I was in sixth grade, whose funeral I really shouldn't have been at. Who inspired a poem of mine that many years ago. I think of my other friends who have experienced much worse, for their friends, for their family, their families...

I think of how such loss connects so many people. I can't even begin to fathom the pain that comes from the sort of loss endured by those I know. All I know is guilt. And the shame that comes from my selfishness. I know of my anger and doubt and questions to God over why... why He lets these things happen. I know He cares, I know He loves us, I know He's there, and that He has a bigger, better plan than I could possibly imagine, that will make all work out for good. I shouldn't have trouble knowing this. I think of all these people I pray for, as they endure the things they endure. I think of these great, incredible people, who are experiencing these terrible, terrible things, and I just have to wonder... why. I've gotten the answer so many times, but I keep on asking.

So today, tonight, tomorrow, and every day after that... I should tell you all to take a moment and think. And pray. To never forget, but I don't expect that you will. To forgive, even though it's nearly impossible as a human being on one's own. I suppose I should tell you to dream about peace and make it accomplishable.

Life is so short and so fragile and so hard to know about. People are so layered and complex and they simply aren't as they seem. I should tell you all to advocate for those who are struggling with loss in a certain way, and I will. I should tell you all to be there for others, that we can make this world a better place. I do. I tell you all these things.

I will tell you that Jesus loves us all, and that God made this world, and that He has a bigger plan. And in my heart, I've found this to be true. But I will not tell you that anything is easy. Or that we'll ever find a way to avoid death or pain. I will not tell you not to feel angry or bitter, or grieved, or to dwell on the pain that you have. I'm not telling you, reader, to listen to everything or anything that I have to say, or to do as I do, or to believe as I do, really.

I am reflecting on these events. And I'm finding it hard to come up with answers, or to believe in my whole heart that these answers are true, even though I know in my spirit and soul that they are. My mind and my heart and my human nature find it so hard to believe it.

I will tell you, friends, to reflect on what I've said. To know that there is hope. That God has a bigger plan. That there are great people in this world, and all of them, including ourselves, are going to meet death one day, in some way or another. I pray that we don't give up hope.