Not Knowing

I'm not sure if this falls under having a God-complex or something, but I absolutely cannot handle not understanding something that I want to know. I'm not talking about quantum mechanics, although that'd be nice too, but I'm talking about life in general. I don't get it. Is there a purpose? Am I doing the right things? Why does pain and suffering exist...or why even love? There's so much complexity to it that I strongly believe there is a right way and a wrong way to live life. The Bible helped me a little bit, but I found too many inconsistencies to be able to really take it seriously.

What got me thinking about it were actually several things...some horrific images and my own imagination. I saw an elderly woman probably in her sixties or seventies (based on the amount of liver spots on her face and body), eating at a fast food restaurant. She was alone. She couldn't stand up straight and was hunched over like the Notre Dame hunchback. She had what seemed to be a permanent frown on her face, from what I imagined years of pain, suffering, and lonliness. She ordered her food and took it to a nearby table. She dragged both her feet when walking as it appeared she couldn't bend her knees. She looked like she was in constant pain...but not in a physical sense. No, she looked to be anguished about something. Perhaps her husband died. Maybe her grandson said something nasty to her. She looked lonely.

When she sat at the table, she was still hunched over. Her head was practically resting on the table. Seeing her trying to eat was one of the most depressing things I've seen in a long time. And I was pissed she was there by herself...nobody there to be with her to help her. Maybe she didn't want any help. Maybe she was tired of being cared after and this was her time alone to prove that she could function by herself. Whatever the reason, I felt incredibly terrible for that woman.

And my first reaction is anger towards God.

It's anger because I don't understand God's supposed plan for her, so my mind conquers up thoughts of torment and solitude. It doesn't seem fair to me. There's too much suffering in this world...not enough love and happiness.

Sure do wish God would talk to me.

Drifting

Five years ago, I sat in front of the television unable to divert my eyes from the magnitude of destruction that was pouring in from the media. But yet, there I sat on the couch with my acoustic guitar in hand strumming some sort of melody - chord progressions that I was not consciously thinking about, and humming an accompanying vocal melody. It was as if God put my fingers in the right places on my guitar and took over my mind as I sang a song for those whose lives would forever change or become forfeit on that day. And oddly enough, it was not a depressing song nor was it an angry song. It was an encouraging song. And I called it Drifting:

Passing the ending...
It is full of air,
That I am drifting.

Wearied.
Take heed.
I don’t want to die.
Essence is the seed.

Beginning –
Ascending where I want to be.
It is so lovely.