I can’t let go of what I refuse to name out loud -- There’s a scar right below my left ring finger. Some 5th grade punk in my 4/5th split class dripped hot glue on my hand while we worked on a project. So annoying. I’m also amazed that my skin still shows the evidence of that moment thirty years later. A faint witness to a simple mistake.
As usual, fine and well stated self and courageous communal revelations in your writing. I think you have a gift that has interesting implications. We we share deep vulnerabilities for many it creates safe space and for others it doesn't. Some are extremely private regarding their wounds for a number of reasons. The experience of rejection or the ignoring of a vouce in sharing vulnerabilities can be almost as painful as the wound. That can take a toll over time. But there's hope in finding safe space where divine love holds. Christ holds us as his mother held him in his most vulnerable state. I believe your personal stories are witness to that and give others hope even when others may not be able to share so openly.
As usual, fine and well stated self and courageous communal revelations in your writing. I think you have a gift that has interesting implications. We we share deep vulnerabilities for many it creates safe space and for others it doesn't. Some are extremely private regarding their wounds for a number of reasons. The experience of rejection or the ignoring of a vouce in sharing vulnerabilities can be almost as painful as the wound. That can take a toll over time. But there's hope in finding safe space where divine love holds. Christ holds us as his mother held him in his most vulnerable state. I believe your personal stories are witness to that and give others hope even when others may not be able to share so openly.
Should be, "When we share...."