My closest friends know that I survived a personal tragedy about 3 years ago.For the magnitude that this thing was, it's amazing that I came out of it so unscathed. But I really, really did.
God Himself was the One who quickly reached in and gently carried me out of a bad situation to new plateau of safety.
A smile soon returned to my face because I had hope. I had hope because my experience had led me to believe that this was one, isolated event.
It was one man who didn't love himself. It was one man who had lost sight of his dreams. It was one man who had lost all sense of hope. It was one man who was dying inside, bound by his own fears.
If he had given me the chance, I would have gladly helped him bear his crosses. But he gave me no choice, and I was forced to move on, which--in sorrow--I did.
What kept that tragedy from destroying me was my steadfast faith in God and my hope in other human beings. I continued to believe in the will of the human spirit, the passion of the heart, and the power of love.
But it is with great, heart-wrenching personal distress and sadness that I must tell you that in the last 3 years I have seen nothing but more of the same, in various degrees and tones, in the hearts of men. Whenever I get close enough to a man to glimpse the insides of his heart, I find spots where there are voids, empty aching gaps of sadness. And instead of wanting to fill those holes with goodness and hope (which I think should be the longing of every human being and the goal of every relationship), I keep seeing them have an apathy (toward their own pursuits of happiness and toward the avoidance of sin) which eventually leads to the destruction of an aspect of goodness in their lives.
Dear reader, please know that I am not saying that I am that "goodness" or that a man's disinterest in me and/or interest in sin means that he does not desire the right things. Goodness, goodness, no. I am not speaking about mutual attraction/interest or the sins which we all commit. My ache for the male's heart runs much deeper than that. There appears to be something fundamentally wrong in the hearts of men my age. They do not know who they are or what they really want in this life. And they do not love themselves. And this terrifies me.
It make me want to give up ever trying to get inside again. I am not finding any home there, no reward. I feel like I have never been cared for in the way that I need to because they are just not capable. So many men, even those significantly younger than me who have not endured what I have experienced, are labeling themselves as scared, spent men.
The world is an absolutely dark place to me right now. Please, someone show me that hope exists in the masculine heart!
