Choking

You choke on the words. You hurt me. Three simple words, a confrontation that won’t come. The fear-scab comes off the child-grown-up-into-woman wound. The mutilation, scarred over long enough   that you had actually forgotten. Again. Impossible. You needed to forget. Until mother-sister-blood family rips it off again. Their indifference, your insignificance, that’s what you need…

Strongest in the Broken Places: A Tale of Domestic Abuse

Watching this video I was a child again. It validated experiences I had growing up.  It made me sad.  I grieve watching it for beyond my own experiences, as I know three women who are living right now in this sort of marriage. One is married to an elder in my church.  (Actually, he was…

Always Striving, Never Satisfied

Image by M e l o d y via Flickr I read about 50 blogs.  Not all the time and definitely not every day.  Correction.  I was curious and the fact is that I track more than 220 blogs on http://www.igoogle.com.  No wonder I feel overwhelmed by the glut of information out there for one…