The Way You Keep the World at Bay for Me.

Growing up you cuddled and coddled me; always on the lookout you stopped me before I could bolt out onto the busy street, covered my ears before hurtful words could reach me and checked under my beds for monsters who bit the toes of little girls.
You were overprotective, selective of my friends my clothes and my teachers. Always in front of me, behind me, and beside me with my small hand held in yours you did your best to guide me down the straightest, safest path there could be if you could make it just so. You expected me to do the best I could and to work hard and never to ask for too much. You reprimanded me when I tried to take my own road, scolded me when the choices I made were harmful and consoled me when I lost the biggest person in my life.

Now can you show me how I can save you from yourself? Why was I never taught that sometimes the child becomes the parent and that the ones you know most can become strangers you never knew? Didn't you know we forgave you, and we didn't want you to hurt anymore, that you had been given a second chance to start again - to start fresh, start NEW. Mom accepted your apologies, we accepted yours, now you need to believe that you are worthy to forgive yourself.

We love you Dad, we want you back. Life is too short to be wasted, this one we all know too well.

Women for Women

Woman on a Cross - anonymous


O God,
through the image of a woman
crucified on the cross
I understand at last.

For over half of my life
I have been ashamed
of the scars I bear.
These scars tell an ugly story,
a common story,
about a girl who is the victim
when a man acts out his fantasies.

In the warmth, peace and sunlight of your presence
I was able to uncurl the tightly clenched fists.
For the first time
I felt your suffering presence with me
in that event.
I have known you as a vulnerable baby,
as a brother, and as a father.
Now I know you as a woman.
You were there with me
as the violated girl
caught in helpless suffering.

The chains of shame and fear
no longer bind my heart and body.
A slow fire of compassion and forgiveness
is kindled.
My tears fall now
for man as well as woman.

You, God
can make our violated bodies
vessels of love and comfort
to such a desperate man.
I am honoured
to carry this womanly power
within my body and soul.

You were not ashamed of your wounds.
You showed them to Thomas
as marks of your ordeal and death.
I will no longer hide these wounds of mine.
I will bear them gracefully.
They tell a resurrection story.

anonymous