As I lie awake in bed tonight, my heart hurts for the ways in which each of my friends has suffered, especially the times before they were in my life and I in theirs. How many hurts has one been through, and who was there for them when it happened? What stories would the scars on our hearts tell if they could speak, or if others could read? Which moments of pain and sorrow would be defining for each of us?
Sometimes I feel like I'm drawn to those who have suffered in silence, but maybe it's just because everyone has, at some point, in some way. I want to hear your story because I want to understand. Not just a part of you, but you, entirely, as a person. And I hope it doesn't come off as nosy or pushy, but I want to know how life brought you to where you are, to when we met. I want to be there in case you're still hurting, and in case no one was before.
It's a deep-set sadness in the brokenness of our world, but I thank God that despite it all, He's helped me focus on the good in people. The kindness beneath the aloof facade, the wistful soul beneath the abrasive front.
I see you.
Or maybe I just wish I did. Who am I to think I'm any better at this than anyone else?
No comments:
Post a Comment