There was a song that my mother used to played every Sunday morning. I'm certain I'm not the only kid that heard it all of the time. It started with Gospel Singer Yolanda Adams beautifully stating that she was alone in a room. Don't we all experience that? We are all, at points in our lives, alone in a room, reaching out for help. These are some of our most pure moments. These are the moments of reflection, the moments that we truly acknowledge our mortality. Sometimes our loudest cries go unheard because of our pride. Sadly, pride is louder than any cry for help. But, dare I say, there is no pride when you are alone in a room. That room is where men cry, where children that have grown up too fast wish they were kids again, where the single mother breaks down, where the addict tries kick his habit, where the young woman wishes she waited, where the teenage boy hopes to be his own man. Do you see it now? We are most alike when we aren't in another's presence. Stripped down to the very core, removed from any kind of affiliation, be it race/ethnicity, religious background, nation...we are all one. We have the same desires to right our wrongs and seek redemption. Neither of the two are easy. If you try to fight these demons alone in a room, you'll surely lose. You don't have to be alone. Fight together. Then again, I'm just a guy with a blog...What do I know?
