I'm waking up this morning so full of pain that I dont know if I will be able to function. Yesterday depleted all of my poise and my energy to smile. The night was restless and the tears just would not stop falling. Why must we persecute the ones who love us? Why in this world of opportunity and excesses do we find it sporting to debase those miniscle few who put it all on the line, bare their souls, and bleed for us? Why? Seeing Michael Jackson laying lifeless on a hospital gurney and watching his last performance less than 24 hours prior, was like a slap of reality to my heart. Hearing that haunting voice on a phone recording simply paralyzed me. I was not ready for that. But are we ever ready to hear that which we think unimaginable when it involves someone we love? Never.
I don't know if I will be able to watch much more of the trial. It's too hard. What I heard yesterday is not what I wanted to play in my mind as I think of Michael Jackson. He was the music of my life. But this recording has changed the sounds I hear when ever I hear his name. This voice that tells me, Michael is in need of care and no one us there to help him. His life should not have had to end before his voice was heard.
Why is he gone? Was he in any agony, any pain?
I have a book that I keep near to me, When God Sheds Tears. It is where I turn when I have those questions. I know that God has shed many, many tears for what was allowed to be the existence of Michael Jackson in his lifetime. And I know that Michael shed many tears for not having the ability to change it. Now it's our time.
God have mercy on Michael's children, his mother, his family, his friends and for us his fans who in our own way were all of those things to Michael Jackson. We loved him even when we could not find the way to tell him except by example. He knew we were there even when he could not reach out to us or even know our names. It was the love affair of all times. And though he is gone from us physically, we still can feel his love carressing us at the level of our hearts and I know he can feel ours being returned to him.
I have heard it said over the last 24 hours that this is the next trial of the century. But for me, this is the only trial of monumental proportions because it is the trial of the quiet, compassionate man who came to us, the people, gave us every part of him, taught us that love is the only thing that matters, was persecuted enmasse by many, and then crucified like a criminal. Reminds me of someone else. And God shed tears for him.
This morning I'm alive. This morning I can sit at my computer and put my thoughts down. This morning as every morning I wake, I ask myself did it take for Michael Jackson to die to receive back the love he gave so freely and abundantly to us all? When will we ever learn, when we ever learn?