The other day I was, once again, crying alone in my car—really letting it out. 

I happened to glance through my tear flooded eyes at the car on my right.  There were five men and women about my age who were heartily laughing together and appeared to be having a really great time.

At first it made me jealous that I wasn’t one of them, chuckin’ it up with my friends, but instead was alone pouring out my heart in brokenness over the death of my boy.

But then I saw the irony and even the beauty.

Here was a yellow sedan filled with people having a blast, completely unaware that no more than six feet away was a black sedan with a grieving mother sobbin’ up a storm.  This is life.  It’s not all good, and it’s not all bad; it is a world where the two reside together, often side-by-side.

Fortunately, we do not exist in a state where everyone is wrought with complete and utter sadness—this would be insufferable.  On the flipside, an existence without any pain would be totally empty.  We would not be able to fathom goodness and delight without also having grasped pain.  Our wounds produce the nerves that enable us to feel joy.

Everyone experiences both joy and pain, and there is beauty in the coexistence of the two.