My night started off normal. I had been fighting with myself in my mind, thinking of all the feisty, snappy responses I would say back to my roommate if she ever had the gall to complain about anything at all, just because I have learned what it’s like to be in powder-keg environments where underlying tension builds, even if you’re not the intended target. But I had consequently stomped those comebacks out before they had made a home in the recesses of my mind, repeating over and over and over again how love overcomes hate, and how you must always love on people. Love on them until it chokes out the bad spirit that dwells within them. But as he night grew darker, I watched TV. and stumbled upon nearly unimaginable situations of life taken violently, and innocent family left alone due to victims that fell prey to their environment. I grew grateful that no matter where it began in our family tree, or if it was just part of our lineage all along, no one fell prey to the life of the ghetto. We may not have all the riches in the world, but we are wealthy in our lifestyle in ways that others are not. Then I stumbled upon an article of love, and the importance of taking into account the details of life. You’ll find you have many riches that way as well. The icing on the cake was when I came across another article of a little 12-year-old girl who passed due to pneumonia. She had written a letter to her future self last April. If she would have lived, she would have been granted the privilege we all were when she would turn 22. Her light heartedness made me smile, reminding me of when I wrote letters to my future self, and how much joy and hope can be had when you’re younger, even if you’re technically too old for ‘innocence’. The last line of her letter is what caused my night of teary-eyed pondering to turn into the ugly crying face: “Well, I think that’s all, but remember it’s been 10 years since I wrote this. Stuff has happened, good and bad. That’s just how life works, and you have to go with it.”
So many things making me think…and there’s no coincidence. God is working on me. I can tell. I can feel it. He’s doing work, and it’s for all the right reasons.