Walking on Broken Glass

This was typed during the family trip to Hokkaido; felt like I should just publish it without too much editing- 

The petty squabble
Articulation of my innermost thoughts that I kept almost hidden from myself. self-righteously judging these people but only realising that I agreed when these thoughts were verbalised.
The lone ladies in pink jackets waiting by the roadside.
The chiselled figures in tight fitting pants at the tourist spot.
The two ladies with their bunny tops
Old legs can't walk
Caught in between mother and daughter
Can a mother and daughter not be able to spend even 5 minutes together? What happened between them I wonder.
Hardness of mouth, hearts not seeing the concern behind the scolding words.
No country for old men (and women).
Thankful for the jacket against the cold wind.
Thankful for the pat on the back.
The chocolates (but somehow I feel bad taking them because I feel like I deserved it)
Thank God for heart and eyes- that break and tender be

"In the face of a suffering and broken world, belief in divine solicitousness and special protection is hard to come by for sick souls. ... Even though it might be easier, simply as a matter of coping, to hide our eyes from life (as many do),  the sick souls refuse to look away. They refuse the too easy retreat into existentially consoling beliefs. And the price they pay for this is allowing a painful tension to sit at the center of their existence, a belief in a God who is often not present and who often fails to rescue." (Becks, 2012: The Authenticity of Faith: The Varieties and Illusions of Religious Experience)

May I have that courage to continue being that 'sick soul'.