It is not an easy thing for me to accept that there are people in this world who truly are not out for the good of others. That, in fact, there are those who seek to harm, to inflict pain and to plot power and control over those around them. I’ve always given humanity the benefit of the doubt despite some experiences, the probability that there is goodness inside most souls. I believe in that truth, it saddens me so when I am proven wrong.
I’ve had the fortune of only having to face this type of person a few times in my life, but it never gets easier. This last week’s encounter was no exception.
I walked into a room to stand up for another who had been mistreated and judged without cause.
I looked into light-less eyes that reflected hate, pain and cruelty. I peered deeper, hoping with all my heart to see a bit of light, holding onto hope that it would shine through. But there was none. I offered words of grace, moments of kindness that might allow for him to dig into the hardness surrounding his soul. But in return all he offered was hatred, abhorrence, loathing. Of humanity, of females, of life.
Of himself.
In these moments I did not defend myself or call out the filth he had lashed out with and embraced with pride. I only watched and listened and wept internally for what I was witnessing. For the darkness filling the room, curses spoken in the name of love and justice.
Lies, cruelty, and what I can only refer to as hatred towards those he has no mastery over.
This encounter nearly broke my spirit.
Nearly.
But not quite. Because the Love that lives in my soul is stronger than these men. He has since, in so many ways reminded me that He is stronger and brighter than the hatred and darkness in this world. That in the end He will make it right, and that I don’t have to.
This hateful man may have walked out of that room feeling triumphant and strong in his power and darkness that he calls light. But I know that is a lie, and if I feel anything towards this soul, it ought to be pity.
It’s not, not yet anyway, but I hope to get there. I cannot hate, for then I become all that I don’t believe in. I will still love and hope and offer gentle strength to this world, even in dark rooms like these. Because that is what I believe wins in the end. And there is nothing stronger than a wounded soul that still chooses to stand back up and love. Souls like these carry a strength that cannot in words be held, but live in Light from another place.
Sidewalk Chalk 