top of page

Domestically Violent and the Dreamed Damage

I don’t have the answers to the questions. I don’t have the faith to believe in a church whose leaders fail. I don’t understand how God can choose her for bride, nor choose us to settle his affection upon – not a race as damaging as ours -- but I know he does, and when I need comfort, it’s still God I turn to. This morning the phrase, whatever the question, Jesus is the answer, scrolls through my mind, beside the equally degrading phrase, keep your eyes on Jesus. It seems people throw these thoughts about every time a follower of Jesus is less than ought. Even though convenient and condemning rhymes do not negate the far-reaching consequences to actions.

I am found in the middle of the hard place where the answers don’t answer the vastness of the questions, where there exist those who fall through the cracks of a religion based upon parameters which are not nearly as universal as the proponents of those boundaries believe. Where the objects of God’s affection hurt each other in ways unimaginable, in patterns and cycles of violence which flatten with and without the use of fists, until the very weave of time is warped and grows that way from then forward.

I am stranded in that place where compassion bleeds, and I need those platitudes handed out from Sunday’s platform to have a weight of universal truth yet know that universal is as inaccurate as the lie of common sense. And the atoms of my being yet believe in the Creator, even though my created mind can neither accept the parameters imposed by those he created nor the realities of the damage we have done to one another and the frailty of a future without divinity.

And if God sent my son to save you, then, please, this morning stay saved, for you are worth the price of a thousand tussled bites and restless dreams, and you are loved for the very core of your essence, and for all you have been and ever will be. And I am stuck in that place where my soul needs love to be definitional and pure and filled with translucent white light and safety and warmth, love experienced as a transforming place of healing wholeness and hope for every tomorrow. May we all find our way there.

May the dreamed domestic be damaged no more.

11 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page