Hating the Hurt

My Dad used to yell at me a lot when I was little, and I thought it made me stronger. I mean, I thought that if I could bear my own Dad's shouting, I could take anyone’s shouting. It makes sense, right? But it turns out I was wrong. Because when others yell at me, it’s like my scabs peel off inside. I think I can handle it, but each time someone yells, I feel this new remembrance wave crash upon me.

And I think that one of the main reasons we hate is so we can’t be hurt anymore – because hate is the opposite of love, and the people we love are the ones who have the power to hurt us. So when they do hurt us, there’s nothing else like it, because we trusted them not to. It’s kind of like they betrayed us in a way.

That’s why we sometimes hate most deeply what we’ve loved most intensely - like parents, or, for some, God. We feel like they’ve let us down, when we trusted them. And there’s no real way to stop loving someone you’ve truly loved, but we start hating – because of hurt. And it’s not that we stop loving exactly –although maybe we think so– it’s just that we start covering it with hate.

But is there a way out? I guess we have to make an effort, have to make a set-will, a goal, to look past hate. And sometimes we have to realize that when people hurt us, they don’t really know what they’re doing. Okay, maybe they do – but they have no idea what extent they’re hurting us - after all, we loved them, and they probably loved us. For God, for some of us, we just have trust that he knows what he’s doing.

As for me, you could ask anyone, and they would tell you I’ve never yelled.


Glimmering Geodes

When I was younger, I used to pray to God to make me so beautiful on the inside that it would show through to my outside beauty. I just believed, and still do, that the inside of us counts for so much more than the outside ever could.

People’s beauty – it’s like a rock. And I know, most rocks look common and bland, right? And although some are more appealing than others depending on the shape, or maybe a slight difference in color, they usually aren’t that special.

However, when we cut a rock open, when we peek to the inside, sometimes our view of the rock changes completely. Sure, some rocks look the same as they did on the outside, but others – when we've cut them open – it’s like we’ve discovered our own personal rainbow; a crystal filled light. And that’s what inside beauty is. It’s something that is often so beautiful that we suddenly forget what the outside really looked like in the first place.

A lot of us - we wish we could change our looks. We want to have curly hair, or straight hair, maybe grow taller, or have a different shape. Perhaps we want to have brown or blue eyes, or maybe we want look more exotic or just different. However, even though this might not seem fair, we’re so exceedingly lucky because, even though we can’t change how we look on the outside, we can change our beauty on the inside.

And amazingly, my prayer came true - that inside beauty – it usually does show through to the outside ;)


Answering the Answer

You know how that guy with cancer will suddenly decide to use his time left to promote a cure? Or how an abused girl will choose to stand up for others like her? Or how a guy, whose friend died from drugs, will cultivate a group for drug awareness? Or how an alcoholic, who almost died from his addiction, will change and become a speaker against his own past? It's amazing when we think about it; how these people used what happened to them, and turned it into good. It’s almost like there was a reason for why those terrible things happened – almost like those things happened so these people would be inspired to help others in the same situation.

But that's not completely true.

These horrific things do not just happen because it is destiny for the people impacted to fight against them. In fact, many people decide to give up on life when things go wrong - they decide there is no medicine, no cure, to make up for injustices. No, terrible things usually don't seem to occur for any reason at all.

Rather, the people deeply impacted by them decide that there must be a reason - they chose a reason. We are not exactly given reasons – instead we make them by wanting them. After all, there should be a reason, right? We don’t exactly believe that things happen because they happen. No, we beg & plead - we cry out - maybe even scream, “Why?” instead of settling for just a, “Well, that’s life for you.” We look for reasons, and by doing so, we make reasons. And often that’s how we attach meaning to our lives, that’s how we fulfill our questions, how we make sense of our lives.

So when bad things happen to us, we shouldn’t just wait for a reason to come and explain what happened, because there might not be one. Rather, we have to make them.

Because sometimes, if we make reasons, then there is a reason after all.


My Grandma

I feel a whisper in my ear
Someone I know
Yes, she’s here

I feel a brush against my hair
Someone’s laughing
Love and care

I feel a kiss upon my tears
Someone understanding
I know she hears

You knew so much
Yet left me here
With just your touch
It’s hard to bear

But when I look in the sky
I know you’re there
Somewhere high
Urging to dare

You’re the one I know
Who hears my prayers
And keeps me safe
From unknown blows

Yes, she isn’t here
And yet she is
People forget her
But I know she lives

I love you too, Grandma

{This is to my Grandma who died a year ago}


A Quick Note

Hey! I just wanted to let you know that I definitely haven't forgotten about posting on my blog - I've just been busy working on college applications that were due today. So I'll be posting soon, but I just wanted to let you know what's been up with me :)