Why do people have to hurt each other so much? Where does all the pain in this world come from? Do we know how much people hurt? Tonight, someone goes to bed with a broken heart; someone falls asleep to the sound of their own crying...a heart is crushed yet again, and its owner wonders how many more times it will happen. Harsh words are flung like cutting barbs, a trust is severed, a love torn to pieces.
And we live our lives.
And hearts bleed, and tears fall.
And we live on.
Why do people poison their lives with their own words? For their selfishness, they tear apart their lives...the blood of broken hearts is on their hands. And pain grabs hold of them like a creeping thorny vine, and they embrace it as it cuts them to pieces.

Why? Why can't we see what we are doing? Where is hope?

If we could see that we tear apart our life in trying to save it...if we could see that we need not--cannot--be alone in our pain and in our troubles...oh, the healing it would bring. Someone saw our entrapment...someone heard our cries and caught every tear we cried. Someone's heart bled for us, and someone loved us to the point of death. Someone wishes us peace, and healing and freedom from the tangle that is ourselves. He took the torment...he bled far more so that we could live.

Why do we think we can do it ourselves? What hideous pride is it that would make us rend ourselves to pieces in search of wholeness? What terrible confusion that would blind us and leave us tangled in a labyrinth of pain, ever going deeper in search of the unknown?

Look outward, and upward. Find light...find hope. Find Love and cling to it desperately. For if we can be consumed by it, there is hope.