As a soldier returned from war I am wounded.
Not by weapons nor explosions,
But your words have wounded me,
In a way only those closest to me can see.
You took the place of God,
When you used your power to pull the rug
Out from underneath my once steady feet,
And the house from over my head as well.
Still we tried to act with integrity,
And didn’t tarnish your name,
Or leave you without workers,
Exiting as gracefully as we could,
For toppled people.
We left what identity we had in order to recover our whole identity.
I try not to blame you,
For I know you too have wounds,
And that they govern your broken choices.
But it did hurt me,
And the way I see myself,
And the way I see my God.
I know I must move on now,
Rebuilt my fractured soul,
Until I can sleep soundly again,
And look in the mirror,
Wounds is about coming to terms with your hurt and moving past it. Sadly it has been a reality for us over the past couple of years. Some pain is easier to process than other pain, and some wounds take longer to heal than others. But wounds do heal, and often by themselves with a bit of patience and gentle handling. Forgiveness on the other hand doesn’t happen by itself; it is always a choice made in the face of this pain.