“You are not hidden. There’s never been a moment you were forgotten. You are not hopeless, though you have been broken, your innocence stolen. I hear you whisper underneath your breath.
“I will send out an army to find you in the middle of the darkest night, it’s true. I will rescue you.”
We’ve dragged ourselves out of bed early to meet together as we do each week. This time, I won’t run away. I won’t shut down. I’m not sure what happened last week.
Sometimes it feels as though no one wants to speak. I wonder whether it’s pride or shame or just awkwardness. For me, it can be a combination of all three. But this morning we are sharing slowly yet openly. Fatigue, discouragement, disappointment, suffering, intimidation, and fear reside in our words, yet we share them and they become less cavernous, less consuming.
Remember when I said that I’m fighting you? Well the truth is, I’m not and it feels to us both like you are winning. Sometimes I’m willing to concede to the idea because it’s easier and doesn’t require me to change my worst patterns—an impossible task. But...