A Visit With The Count

Writing about the "Count of Monte Cristo" music soundtrack last night got me in the mood to hear it again. I just finished watching the movie. It never fails to move me.

There are several scenes in the movie that really get to me, but one in particular causes my eyes to well every stinking time I watch the crazy thing. After Edmond is betrayed by his best friend and thrown into prison for a crime he didn't commit, he notices a message carved into the wall of his cell by the previous tenant - "God will give me justice".

For the next four to seven years (it's never quite clear exactly), Edmond carves the message deeper and deeper into the wall with a sharp stone. It's as if he's attempting to carve it into his soul to cling to God and keep from losing his faith. Then one day after his annual whipping, he sits there staring at the message, picks up the stone, then with a clatter drops it to the floor. A powerful statement.

I guess it gets to me because I know what it's like in a way. I've never totally lost my faith in God, but my heart has been so beaten down and punctured by the knives in my back, that I've cried out to God, "WHY?", just as Edmond does. I've asked the questions millions have before me: Why do good people suffer? Why doesn't God do something about the wrongs committed against the innocent?

You know what? I'll never have all the answers. I'll never understand why I've had to walk some of the horrible paths laid before me. But this I DO know. It was not God who did these things to me. It was not God who conspired to commit wrongs against me. It is the effect of the selfish nature of man.

And there is an added benefit that God has opened my eyes to through all of it. There are so many people in this world just like me - beaten down by events or other people in life, doubting God, confused about how a loving God could allow such things, etc., etc., etc. So many times they're told to "get over it" or "where's your faith" and other such hogwash.

God has allowed me a not so unique opportunity to see through people's masks and reach them where they hurt. I can't make things better, but I can be a shoulder to lean on, arms to hold them, a friend to listen, someone to cry with. In a very tiny way, it almost makes what I've been through worthwhile. It at the very least gives reason to my past hurts.

I'm still on my journey, and that's a good thing. With insiders knowledge, I can laugh at the scene in the movie where Edmond tells Priest, "God is no more real than your treasure, Priest." To which Priest responds with a smile and says, "Perhaps."

You'll have to watch the movie to fully appreciate the wealth in that statement.