We are Broken or My Thoughts on a Mandatory Vaccine for a Sexually Transmitted Disease

And we keep trying to slap band-aids on our brokenness. But as soon as one band-aid is affixed the realization that there is another broken spot becomes glaringly obvious. If we went to the doctor, we might be able to receive some healing, but he might also put us on a diet, or recommend an excercise program. Activities that would breathe life into our dying lungs and give us the support we need for the long haul. But we can't, so we just keep suffering, limping along, blessing and cursing the brokenness in one breath.

We become slaves to our brokenness, spend billions of dollars to find ways to stay broken, with fashionable band-aids. We pass laws and pat ourselves on the back for the clever ways we twist our problem and crack our words to sound like we are not broken. When someone tells us we're broken, we snap and snarl at them and render them irrelevant to this big vast broken world we live in.

We are broken. And no amount of smart words or pretty packages that conceal death will heal us. We must go to the healer.