Saturday, January 21, 2006


I love my wife so very much

I love my wife very much. I hurt so much because she hurts so much. I will never be able to show her how much she means to me. I wish I could take away the pain that her child causes her, she loves her in secret only. I pray for her to be forgiving as the unforgivable is done to her daily. She is a true Christian. Her prayers are precious to God. She is a woman of faith. True faith brings true pain, but ultimately joy. But pain in these end times as child turns against parent. How I love her, how I wish I could ease her hidden pain. She is a role model for me. And I love her and I always will. She does not hurt the innocent, she does not use words as weapons. Her faith is called foolish by the faithless. She is mocked, yet doesn’t mock the ones that mock her, but prays for them instead. That is real love.

Thursday, January 05, 2006


My Hidden Pain

I'm saddened to learn that perhaps there are wounds too deep to recover from. I'm not callous enough to attack, so I'll just dodge the blows the best I can as I bleed to death. The nicks and cuts normally inflicted on a parent usually just heal and leave scar tissue, but some can be mortal. Did you think I wouldn't bleed? I wish you were right. Was it important to you to prove you were stronger? To prove that might makes right? To prove you could break me? I guess it feels that way at your age, but you're wrong, you know. You can cause me pain, you do. But not in the way you think. It's taken me a lot of years and experience to learn that pride is an unruly master. To serve God, to love Him, and to love others as yourself, that is what is important. But doing that will not protect you from pain. It takes much more strength to not vent, to not attack, to not cut, then it does to do those things. And it will hurt when others do that to you. My faith does not lessen my pain, sadly. I am already broken before God, but do not mistake that for the reasons for my pain, that is my strength. I am strongest when I am weakest. The pain I feel the most is not for myself. With God's help, I can survive pain, even to the death. My pain is my love for you, the sorrow over the paths you have taken. My pain is my fear that you have become too wise, too strong, too tough, to acknowledge to yourself that you're afraid, lost, and need love and forgiveness like all of us. My pain is that you respond to messages of love and hurt with anger. My pain is that I cannot reach you. My pain is that I want you to be happy and I fear you cannot be. My pain is that I am now afraid of the fire, the razor edge that you have become. I do not hurt for myself, I hurt for you, but it still hurts nonetheless.

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