Shame

Is that what you wanted?  For me to feel shame when I confessed my sin?

Me, so proud of what I learned.  You, annoyed to hear the word.

It *was* fine that evening, playing with her.  Sweet, in fact.

I struggled the rest of the morning after she left.  Wondering if I should reveal what was in my heart.  Wondering if the risk was worth it.

I’m not ashamed.  I learned something of myself that day. I am glad to know this about myself now.  To be able to recognize the source and not let it carry me away.

Isn’t what we do with those all too human emotions important? We can let them run us and ruin us…or see them and know, really know of their silly unimportance? Ahhhh yes, I know that one now.  Jealously.  Not important.  Yes that is how it should be.  I like that kind of knowing.

I have no shame for sharing my heart. For taking that risk.  For being human.

I died a small death to know jealously intimately…to call it out…to let it be of no consequence is to banish it.  Go away, you have no power here.   And to be able to tell you about it all.

There is no shame.

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3 Responses to Shame

  1. tobeme says:

    There is no shame, you are correct! We must die many deaths to find our way back home.

    Like

  2. I love your bravery. ((big hugs))

    Like

  3. Rosa says:

    Now I know the risk was worth it.

    Like

speak!

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