I am not about to get into the whole "Why do bad things happen to good people" conversation. Philosophers, theologians, scientists and holy men and women have spent enough time on this. This blog is about why we ask those questions in our darkest times to begin with.
It actually doesn't matter what situation you are in when you get to that point that you start yelling at the sky, "Why Me!!!!" It could be a flat tire, a late meeting, a lost child in a supermarket, a sick relative, a broken washing machine, or anything that may bring us to the point of overwhelming frustration, or even, calm questioning, "Why Me?"
It may be systematic eroding of our patience, tolerance, endurance, or even faith; that something feels like it is eating away at us, taking away from the richness and value of our life. It may be a sudden, explosive event that makes us feel like our foundation has been stripped out from underneath us.
The conclusion is the same: we feel fractured!
For this moment, or for a long time, the connections, the assurances, the beliefs we once had are thrown into question. Is it any surprise that we try to find an answer?
I thought everything was going so well? What happened?
I was just at the point that I was getting my head above water. Now this!!!
What the Hell! This is so unfair!
It is strange that when I look at my own life, that I am asking these questions as if ANY answer would satisfy me in these times. I am looking with my head for answers that are really being asked in my heart.
When I cry out to heaven, I am really crying out for the assurance that these connections I once felt, are still there.
My head says, Why Me? My heart says, "I need to be understood!", "I need to feel connected to others in my life again.", "I need to feel loved and appreciated again.", "I need to feel that I still matter to someone else."
Is that why we complain, or like to complain to others? Do we just want that reassurance that someone is listening? I know that I sometimes search for sympathy. However, in those more severe times, I am not searching for sympathy, but love.
Feeling fractured is really the feeling that, during this time of distress, I doubt that I am loved.
It is irrational, I know. Why in the world would what is happening have any effect on whether I am loved or not? Yet, those doubts arise as my discomfort and disharmony and distress increase.
Sometimes then, it is not the answers to the big questions that we really desire.
It is the loving touch on the shoulder,
the kind eyes seen turned to us,
the soft spoken word of support,
the grasped hand of friendship,
the hug of a loved one.
These are the answers to the impossible questions.
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