A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. – Luke 10:30
I am like the Traveler. Stumbling down the road, weary from the long journey, I fall down. Something comes out of the bushes and hits me upside the head with a memory of what was or should be. It takes all I have.
People walk by, not seeing the pain.
I do not need a hospital or bandages. I need a hand, a shoulder, someone who understands. Where is the good Samaritan?
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I’m stumbling forward, grieving.
I’m sorry my grieving what is lost causes you to not want contact.
I’m sorry this difference, chasm in realities, causes problems.
I’m sorry this makes everything harder.
I’m sorry I cannot change my path. Don’t blame me, I did not choose it.
I’m sorry – not sorry – this is all I have left of Caleb.
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