Tuesday, May 05, 2009


5 May 2009

Now and again I revisit
the anger, see if I can still feel
the grinding implications in my bones,
the grit between my teeth scraping,
wearing away flesh and blood. Resentment remains,
though on the periphery and fading fast.
I learn what it means to die to self
for the sake of Others who pushed me
to the point of chewing bitter, sandy cud
as I contemplate forgiveness; redemption.

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George MacDonald

"Home is ever so far away in the palm of your hand, and how to get there it is of no use to tell you. But you will get there; you must get there; you have to get there. Everybody who is not at home, has to go home."

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