Sorry for the sob story, but here’s a cup full of hope.

Sun burnt and tired, I lay on the guest bedroom of my house and listen to the sound of bugs hitting the window. They see the large overhead ceiling fan light, and without noticing the thick pane of glass between them and that beautiful yellow light, they fly right to it. again and again. and a faint thud repeats withinthe whirring of the fan.

It's summer time, and I feel for those bugs.

Because

I cried today. A lot. My poor parents. Slash that, my poor dad -- he didn’t know how to act. I just cried, the waitress made me cry, praying made me cry, the dating couples made me cry, the rain made me cry, and the music made me cry. Actually, I just made me cry. But those factors didn’t help.

But it’s alright. It was a long time coming. I have not cried for days or longer, and I am a crier. I could cry for a living if my tears were worth anything. I remember being 9 years old on my bed and crying about some small problem magnified by my dramatics I’m sure, and I remember thinking: when I am going to grow out of crying? When will I quit this kind of embarrassing puffy-eyed sobbing? And then again when I was 13, I had the same thoughts. Then today, while in the car driving to meet my parents for dinner, I was weeping and hitting my steering wheel and thinking: “When will I grow up and stop crying like a child!?” When it came to me that I am twenty years old and I will never grow out of crying like that. Ever. If I was going to, it would have happenedby now. It is the physical manifestation of the reality that at times too many bad things happen at once.

Today there was just too much injustice. I was angry at my kids' parents not caring enough, not listening, really listening to their children. I was overwhelmed by the disconnect I feel between Jesus and I and my friends and I. And, loneliness is always increased by eating dinner with your parents -- let’s face it, the epitome of third wheels.

But here is the beautiful part. Although we live in a world that is shattered:

"This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget

That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet. This is my Father’s world: the battle is not done: Jesus Who died shall be satisfied, And earth and Heav’n be one.”

The battle is not done. We are not at the end of the story yet; there is a happy ending in some century. Jesus will be satisfied when all is done. God rules despite how strong the wrong seems to be.

This song saved me today.