Life is so difficult at times

So we have been doing a lot of talking at GUPY about identity. Last night we went to do Nightwatch. It is a service the Salvation Army in Greensboro does where they take the Emergency Response truck out and give food to homeless people. We had just finished feeding, talking to, and praying with a wave of people. One of our drivers had to drop off a van so we were waiting for them. The homeless in Greensboro know that the truck means we are giving out food so another wave of about 5 people came. As we fed and talked with them a woman walked by the was yelling something. I was to busy talking to the woman me and a few others were talking to to notice what it was that she said. Things got a little tense. Though again I was mostly oblivious because we were trying to express our reasons for giving out food to this woman and she kept saying we were not being real with her. Anyway, after a while the woman returned and then stuff started to boil over. We all finished up and then I saw Marshall calling the cops. One of the men we gave food to was carrying a crowbar and following another guy. The leaders told us to get in the vans, then Kelly walked to the van as the men went behind the van as well. We yelled to her to come back and she did exactly what she had to do, slowly and calmly walked back to us. The guy with the crowbar backed off and started to cry a bit. Marshall was trying to mediate while staying safe and keeping himself between us and them. A few of the girls started to pray and it was like deja vu to April 16th, so I went over and put my arm around them and prayed with them, hoping to comfort them. I don't know if it was but it just felt like what I could do at that moment, mainly based on my experience from the 16th. So the guy threw down the crowbar and sparks few a little. We felt safer and started to load up to leave to keep helping people and to get in a less dangerous situation. As I got in the van i saw them all across the street beating the crowbar at what looked like a person. I jumped in the van yelled at the last few to do the same and started to get out my first aid kit. But I was not about to run over there without police. Then about 6 cop cars came out of no where. I wanted to run over and offer to help. The van started to move and we pulled up to talk to Marshall about what to do next. Because one of the girls were between me and the door, the fact that I have no legal ability to render aid in NC, and I felt like I shouldn't leave without Marshall's approval. So I did nothing. As we drove off I stared at the dashboard in front of me. That lasted about 20 min or so. A few of the girls and Jeremy, I think, tried to comfort me. But all I could do was think, "I should have run over there" "Why God do I keep having chances to use my skills then fail to?" among other similar thoughts and questions, going in circles. I was unable to speak, something that happens to me when I am thinking hard, but this was longer and more inopportune than anytime before. Marshall asked me to come talk to him. We stepped out of the van and he asked what I was feeling. All I could get out was one word answers, anger, frustration, sadness. Then I got a whole sentence out, I told him I did not want to talk, but I would later. That was enough to let him focus on the rest of the the group and the rest of the night. I just kinda sat there for the rest of the night. Slowly I came to realize that this breakdown, for lack of a better term, was from two sources. One was identity. I identify myself as a lot of things one of which is as an EMT. So I felt that I had failed one of the identities I hold most dear. So I was a failure to myself. The second is related, I failed to speak and to act. So I failed to prove to myself and others that I have what it takes. So I guess this is also identity, but I failed to live up to being a man, in my view. I started to realize this some, then I was able to go out at the last stop of the night to talk with more people. The next morning Marshall brought up the second source, which was before I completely grasped that. And he tried to speak into my life the acceptance God has for me, and his acceptance of me. But as he found, it meant nothing to me. Because it was not a lack of eternal acceptance I was dealing with. I was not accepting myself. I was so mad and disappointed in myself. I had to be the one to speak the words of acceptance into my life, I just hadn't yet. Rough night, this and other events are why I learned so much at GUPY.