Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Snow Day


Snow fell overnight. A soft white dusting had already blanketed our sidewalks when Morning Glory left with her packet of pictures for Wounded Heart. We'd paged through neatly organized photo albums and dug through chaotic stacks in random boxes.

Among her own school photos and dance recital memories, she took home a cub scout from 1968 and a girl who created this Q-tip snowman a year later.


Wounded Heart asks us to focus on our past, to examine and tell our stories.

We begin with photos of our parents, then us at our birth; the child we were as
a toddler, in preschool, elementary, middle and high school.


We tell our stories. Touch scars left by the wounds of childhood, pain held within memories associated with our parents and grandparents, perhaps teachers or pastors, our siblings, our peers.

Wounds inflicted, a sense we were ignored, abandoned or betrayed, a voice of criticism, a sense we were not cherished nor loved, the misuse of Scriptures by those who would manipulate us, exposure to pornography or the abuse of others, the angry voices assaulting our tender ears while we were inside our mothers' wombs, the child or teen witnessing or experiencing physical or sexual or satanic ritual abuse.

In our broken humanity, we are all wounded, we are all perpetrators of wounds.

Truth, not lies. Healing, not blame.

Healing. Truth.

We push past the WHY and fall like beautiful snowflakes into the hands of God.


"Be easy on people; you'll find life a lot easier.
Give away your life; you'll find life given back,
but not merely given back—given back with bonus
and blessing. Giving, not getting, is the way.
Generosity begets generosity."
—Luke 6:38 MSG

Rw
.

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