Outrage

Outrage usually comes with violent action. I feel my flailing weak word arms are limply directed at a cannibalistic giant. Meanwhile hot tears of outrage stream down my sunken cheeks. No, it surely is not enough. But word arms is all I’ve got to flail today.

Power

Be suspicious when someone of greater power assigns blame to someone of lesser power.

Deep Memory, Maggots & The Manger

Deep memory wakes me in the night, like wormwood – when the bitterness you left behind seeps through the unguarded chinks in my mind. Your seed, the one with which you inseminated my soul; is rotting and wriggling like maggots from their parasitic placenta. In my slumber, you and your many faces come to me. You charm, coax, rub, hope, cajole, invite, entice, expect and enter. I avoid, explain away, rationalize, minimize, make excuses for, give in and finally open myself to the decay of you. I panic and wake myself, feeling the movement of imaginary maggots that I am certain must be there.

The Foam of Your Shame

“They are… wild ocean waves leaving nothing on the beach but the foam of their shame.” Jude 1:13

Cunning, Calculated Compassion

I naively assumed that a man’s deposit of warmth, tenderness, interest or compassion was authentic. It never occurred to be that compassion could cover the exoskeleton of a hardened heart or become a means of personal gain.