Sometimes this world starts breaking me down
I get so lost I think I’ll never be found
And there are moments of fear and doubt
Even the best fall to the ground
I am a mess, I am a wrecking ball
I must confess that I still don’t get it all …
~ Building 429 lyrics from Press On
Sadness, depression, hopelessness, it’s every where it seems. It’s a mess, it’s out of control, it’s a wrecking ball. It feels like there isn’t anything to do but watch it happen. People living difficult lives created by their own choices. There’s nothing which can be done but watch as they spiral out of control.
Try to hand them a parachute and they bat it away. Try to grasp their hands, and they refuse to hold on. Try to rescue them and they push you away.
They make life difficult. Creating the very things which hurt them. Hating the things they are hanging onto so hard.
It’s like watching a person struggle to stay a float, wailing and smacking the water, going under time after time, trying to gasp in air each time their head gets above the water line, and you can’t reach them. You scream at them, JUST PUT YOUR FEET DOWN!!! STAND UP!!! But they don’t listen. You know they are only in chest high water, but they continue to struggle, drowning needlessly.
The solution seems so easy to us, and yet so very difficult for them.
Why is it so hard for some? Why do they have to struggle so hard at life? Why do they find it so hard to reach out and grasp the thing they so desperately want? Why can’t they see it’s right there, all they have to do is open their eyes!
Young lives are derailed because they won’t open their eyes. Marriages are destroyed because they won’t open their eyes. Towns are rioting because they won’t open their eyes. Countries are divided because people won’t open their eyes. It’s a mess. It’s all such a mess.
We all feel it. We all feel the desperation. We all see the destruction. And we all feel helpless.
It doesn’t matter if we have the answers. It doesn’t matter if we see the problem. It doesn’t matter if we have the antidote. Until they are willing to open their eyes, listen, reach out or put their feet down, they will continue to break down.
So what is there to do? We cry until we find it hard to breath, we yell into the wind, we beat our fists off the wall. Our minds race, our hearts break. We sit, with our noses pressed against the glass, hoping they will glance our way, catch our eyes, hear our voice, even for just a brief moment.
What will they see in our eyes? Fear … desperation … pleading … love? What will they hear us saying? You’re okay, put your feet down, relax, we love you? Hopefully something that will make them realize they are not alone, they are loved, they can breath. But until then, we sit, hurting and helpless.
It’s a mess.
IT … our husband, wife, son, daughter.
IT … our church, school, club, work.
IT … our city, town, state, country.
It’s a mess.
And it seems all we can do is press on. Just press on … when we still don’t get it all.