I was born into a messed up family. I have always had a desire to shake my fist at God, if there is such a being. I have indulged that desire frequently, and with some intensity.
Today I talked on the phone for half an hour with a wounded lady of 34 years who loves a wounded man of 27 years. They have both experienced more family pain than I did. I am meeting with her in person tomorrow.
I have another relationship with a woman who said she was suicidal. We met recently, and I presented the idea that she was trying to solve too many problems that are owned by other people. The idea touched her in a good way. Today I invited her to meet again. She accepted.
What came from my encounters with pain is that I understand the pain other people are going through. At least, the pain that resembles mine. And I care about it. And I have some suggestions for them that might actually make a difference to them.
Today, for the first time, I see value in the crap I experienced. I am ready to stop blaming God, if there is one, and maybe even be grateful for something I have resented for so many years. I see more value in pain than I ever have.