How many lessons, Lord? This subtraction is breaking me.
No, I get that the answers will not show themselves, nice and tidy, in my Saturday inbox.
I know that. God is God and He's got plans and I don't get called into the meetings.
I know all this.
And yet.
What am I to ask, given the circumstances?
("the only stupid question is the one we don't ask"--don't you think God is a bit pissed with whoever came up with that? Seems like it would take up a whole lot of His time, don't you think?)
I'm tired of learning through loss. Am I so thick that this is what it takes to get through? Is this jagged loss my only path to understanding?
That just so sucks.
And I'm just not sure I'm learning anything, to be honest. I am numb, empty and exploding at the same time, reaching dumbly into the dark to find a reason. So far, I've got nothing, btw.
My heart is breaking for my beautiful brother. He is too much to be lost so easily, so painfully. I don't understand.
I wonder if there is a remedial class to help me make sense of this constant thrum of grief that runs through my thick head. And where would one find such a thing? What bulletin board?
Jesus.
Then again, maybe some lessons are just shit. Necessary, yes, but shit just the same. Maybe that's the best I can hope for.
How sad is that?
So here's what I learned in school this week:
I learned Hurt.
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