I’ve had a series of unrelated conversations lately with several different people that have had nothing to do with the same subjects.  However, somehow these conversations have had a similar tone and have kept me thinking about the same ideas over and over.

We live a cynical, CYNICAL world.  People don’t believe in romance, lasting love, real-life happy endings, or the integrity of others anymore.  Patriots are regarded as ignorant, and people who stand for something are deemed judgemental.  We suspect one another.  We scheme against one another, and we are breeding a generation of apathy because we, as a whole, have found no other way to cope. Since when do so many people believe we are only put on this Earth to dangle and die?

I’m simply making an observation, not passing judgement.  I actually used to be the poster child for pessimism.  I served proudly.  I thought to be cynical was to be wise beyond my years and to not get lost romanticizing life like the naive.  Happy people were stupid, or lying.  I wasn’t one of the sad saps who still believed in hope and faith.  I assumed managing my life this way would prepare me for the inevitable ugliness and spare me the embarrassment of looking like a fool.  The truth is, I was just wrong.  I was basing my opinions solely on my own disappointed experiences.

We all must learn lessons in humility because we’re human.  To be human is a difficult thing, but we were made mortals, to walk this Earth…and we were built to overcome.  Even the cynics do this over and over, whether it is recognized or not.  Our flesh is so fragile, but our spirits so resilient.

I don’t understand our creation all the way. I don’t understand why there has to be good and evil to begin with, but that’s not my job.  I do believe in what the Bible says, though the mysteries will always remain.  I can get lost just looking at my skin, thinking about why we exist at all.  We are human, but we are divine.  We have this crazy mix of fate and free-will surrounding us all hours of the day.  We have a deeply pure place in our souls where God lives and love is born…but then we have our skin, calloused by all else.  When will we be brave enough to strip the callouses away and spit into the eye of what has jaded us?  I can’t help but think about this line from Forest Gump that says, “I don’t know if we each have a destiny, or if we’re all just floating around accidental-like, but I think maybe it’s both.” That’s one of the truest things I’ve ever heard.  I think we each have a destiny, but we at the same time, have every right to defy it.  That’s when things get messy,especially when we’ve been hurt and start not to care.  How brave it must be to fulfill one’s destiny…

Bravery cannot be throwing in the towel.  It is far braver to be hopeful in my opinion.  It is far braver to know joy, and far braver to admit these things.  Maybe if we all knew, and could know to the uttermost that miracle of a thing we are, we could hold onto it long enough to believe.  My heart yearns for that revelation.  I’m not the enlightened…I’m not perfect.  I’m just realizing things…some from my life and some from watching things happen to others.  I’m just so tired of defending hope, and so tired of blushingly admitting to people that, yes, I do believe everything will be alright.  God made our feet to keep walking one in front of the other and our hearts to follow each beat with another.  We were crafted to move.  Imagine with hope and optimism what we could shake.