I consider life to be a journey; one that God has set up ahead of me, on this journey the road is full of potholes. You know, the ones that at times feel like sink holes from which you can never return, the potholes that grab you, paralyze you with fear and doubt.
At times life seems to spiral out of your control, circumstances rear their ugly heads and take over, so much so that you want to give up, end it all now. That road is a dead end, an end to your life. Suicide is never the answer, not to anything, itís the easy way out for you, your life ends, not so for those who love and miss you everyday. They are left with heartache and pain, pain that may never completely leave them. Guilt and regret become their constant companions; life is never the same for your loved ones after your suicide.
As difficult as it is to stand up to the problems, potholes in life, we must stand with Gods help. We must fight to carry on the standard God has place before us, of honesty, courage and steadfastness, going back to a time when a personís word meant something. A time when a personís word was something you could count on, not just lip service, telling someone what they want to hear. Being there for someone, standing beside them through whatever difficulties they may be facing is what life should be about.
As children we learn to share, we share our toys, our crayons, our snacks and on and on. Iím wondering where our knowledge of sharing has gone. Why has our culture in this country become so self-focused? Leaving so many of our neighbors, if we even know our neighbors, hanging out to dry offering them no hope, no encouragement, no way out of lifeís potholes.
Extending a hand to help someone is a wonderful thing.