| - What Hurts The Most I am literally staring at the computer screen stunned. My body aches all over. I have no voice. I am deaf to everything but this obnoxious ringing due to extensive noise exposure. I have huge bags under my eyes. I feel like my brain has been torn out of my head, stretched and stomped on. If I see or hear one more child tugging on my arm or hear "Miss Pam, so and so did this...", or experience blatant disrespect again today, I fear I'm going to blow. This has most definitely been my worst day of work ever. I almost lost it. My coworkers almost lost it. My boss couldn't even walk in the big room. One big, dingy, ill-equipped, run-down room with a bunch of dodgy chairs and tables and hidden, scampering rats, is all we have to work with. But what's even worse is not the bad conditions (cuz I guess you learn to live with what you have in the ghetto), but the 110 screaming miniature homo sapiens that inhabit that room and the little play ground from 9-5pm, 5 days a week.
I sound bitter, but I guess mostly I am disappointed. We have seen so much progress with these kids. I've seen kids that were branded as failures by their schools, families, parents, teachers, succeed and learn. I've worked with a 4th grade girl that never talked and now, she can carry on a conversation and write stories. I've worked with a 5th grade boy that went from slobbering, touching people, and blatantly disobeying, to making beautiful music as a boys choir member. These kids are not failures and I know deep down they are really hurting. I can't even begin to understand some of their family situations. I know many of them don't live with their parents because they are in jail or got killed. I know some of their parents beat them or gave them HIV. I know some of them are homeless and somehow United Way gave them a scholarship to have some place to get food, learn, and have fun for 8 hours a day. They have learned how to respect themselves and others. That's why today was so disappointing.
I've worked here for almost a year, and today makes me wonder if what we're teaching or learning is making any difference in their lives, or in my life. Jesus teaches us to love others. But for the grace of God, none of us are any better than these. And these were most likely the people Jesus desired to spend the most time with. He loved them. I have so little patience and feel like I have nothing left, no love, no understanding, no compassion to give.
And my work life is just one part of the neverending struggle of life. I have been so cynical about everything---my relationships with my family, my boyfriend, friends, about why I go to church, how could I worship a God that allows so much pain and suffering in this world, how can I trust that God knows what's best for my life and for those I love, how can we as broken people learn to embrace our struggles and praise God, when will people stop living the fake "Glory, Hallelujah- life" and be REAL? Yes, we can praise Him when He blesses us when we are doing His will. Yet how cruel is it that we should praise Him still even when we are doing His will and he doesn't bless us? Or maybe is it that He does bless us but not in the way we think he should?
I know deep down, it's now about what we think at all. As much as I try to run away from God--- he's there. I can deny him as much as I want, but my faith keeps drawing me back. This world is not purposeless or void. God knows what He's doing. I don't.
It's been so long since I've felt communion with my Heavenly Father----I see his work in creation, but how personally do I feel his touch my everyday life, in the lives of those I care about and love. Why are so many people suffering and broken? Why are there so many people suffering and broken, yet hold up this charade that everything is all right? Is there any authenticity out there?
What is patience, love, joy, peace? Everything I built my faith on has been rocked. It's a scary thing to take yourself out of the box and really question, really think---- Why do I believe what I believe? Why was I raised the way I was raised? Why was I conditioned to think a certain way? Is it all my parents, the church, or this institutional Christianity? Am I truly being a rebel now because I am not blindly going along with the feel good motions? I'm aching for realness. I am exhausted physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. I'm on a spinning rollercoaster that doesn't seem to stop. Eventually it has to. But where will I be?
I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don’t bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out
I’m not afraid to cry every once in a while
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again I pretend I’m ok
But that’s not what gets me
What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was tryin’ to do
It’s hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go
But I’m doin’ It
It’s hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I’m alone
Still Harder
Getting up, getting dressed, livin’ with this regret
But I know if I could do it over
I would trade give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken
What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do
What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do
Not seeing that loving you
That’s what I was trying to do |
