I had one of those strange moments the other day when I was laying down in bed with a hot cup of tea on my night stand and two purring kitties draped across my legs. I was happy. In my comfortable pillow-top bed with my favorite Harry Potter blasting loudly on the TV. (That’s the Half-Blood Prince. Obviously the best. Anyone who disagrees probably smells like farts.) I mean… can life really get much better than that? Doubtful. Then… I remembered what happened in Manchester the day before and started feeling guilty for having everything so good in life while other people are suffering and in pure devastation. I was ashamed of my happiness. Of how easy I have it. How amazing my husband is when women are treated like dogs in other countries (and sometimes even here, sadly.) For having family that would support me no matter the circumstance when others are dumped on the street and homeless with nowhere to turn. I was physically ill over these poor people who were murdered trying to enjoy a concert, when I was sitting in bed enjoying all of my favorite things. Life is cruel and unfair.
It was very much a “why me?” moment in my life. Except instead of being down on my luck and wondering “why is this happening to me?” it was the complete opposite. How did I get so lucky? I’m not even that nice of a person, so it’s definitely not something I deserve. I’ve been trying to come up with ways to actually help and make a difference. What do you guys do? I don’t want to be one of those people who post #prayforManchester (or whatever the current tragedy is) because it’s trendy and actually do nothing about it. Seriously, how many of the people who posted that on social media do you think really prayed or did anything to help? Probably not a lot.
It’s terrible how powerless you can be when there are so many people suffering.
(Usually I post humor, but I strayed from the theme this time! Sometimes it’s just necessary to branch out when the world is going to shit. Back to normal programming next post <3)