My sacred place is my fathers' house located in Jackson, New Jersey. Growing up as a child, I suffered at the hands of my stepfather. When ever my sister and I were able to visit my father in NJ, it was a place where we could breathe. We were able to just be kids at this house; no responsibilities, no fears, and no pain (except for little cuts and scrapes every now and then from our adventures in the forest). Here we could stay up all night, run around the yard, eat anything we wanted, and embrace our childhood.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Sacred Place for the Broken
My sacred place is my fathers' house located in Jackson, New Jersey. Growing up as a child, I suffered at the hands of my stepfather. When ever my sister and I were able to visit my father in NJ, it was a place where we could breathe. We were able to just be kids at this house; no responsibilities, no fears, and no pain (except for little cuts and scrapes every now and then from our adventures in the forest). Here we could stay up all night, run around the yard, eat anything we wanted, and embrace our childhood.
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wow, interesting stuff. I'm glad you are not letting childhood things impact how you handle/deal with things today. Learn the lesson, and put it where it belongs - in the past. Building your new sacred place is awesome. God Bless!!
ReplyDeleteWow. This is a beautiful piece.
ReplyDelete"Your talent is God's gift to you. What you do with it is your gift back to God."
-Leo Buscaglia