She is Absolutely Almost Right*

Forty three years ago
I was much too young
And far too eager
To carve my path
To make my mark
To be the best I could be.

But in the battle for attainment
I neglected the core reasons
Making the struggle necessary.

I left my babies in their cribs.
Later, I left them
In front of a television set.
Then I gave them the latest video games
And all the distractions that would
Divert their attention from me
And my “more important” pursuits.

My wife sought warmer arms
And deeper embraces
Than those I provided.
So, I sought comfort too.
Then, when she left
I blamed her for the betrayal.

The monuments I’d erected were proud
And all in my own image.

Everything I’d worked for
Over the course of four decades
Ultimately crumbled to dust.
Nothing I’d accomplished endured.
Except one thing...
Shame.

I wallowed in misery
For two terrible years.
Nobody came to my relief
Except an encouraging little brother
And a persistent still, small voice
Saying, “Trust me.”
So, I did.

Step by half-step
I crawled out of the mire
Until my rehabilitation was complete.

Complete. But not finished.
I was given a full measure of grace.
Enough to rebuild
And refurbish my life.
But renewal must be a daily refit.

Recently an intimate voice from the past
Returned to
Accuse
Blame
And indict.
The voice knew precisely
Where to insert the blade.

Every word fashioned by my attacker
Was founded in truth
But all extracted from the distant past.

I wanted to engage
And open a new front on an old war.
I fashioned words
And set the fuses
To combust the atmosphere
Intended to afflict maximum misery
To rend and destroy.

I am efficient with words.
I have learned the calculating
And foolhardy art of war.

I deleted every word.
I did not answer her charges.
Nothing I could say would fix anything
And everything I would say
Would hurt everybody.

She must think I am afraid.
Too timid to reply.
She would be right by half.

I am not timid. Never was.
But I am afraid that, by reply
I would fall again into that old morass
Of bitter self-justification and defense.

She is right on every count but one.
The man to whom she addressed her charges died long ago.

And the dead answer no letters.


* I am told I may be too transparent. But I own my misdeeds. I alone am responsible for all I did, or things happening on my watch. I offer the above to, in no way entertain my readers. Please do not make the mistake of thinking any confessions of past wrongs is noble. They are ugly. They are ignoble. They are mine. But I thank God (and by "God" I mean GOD), that he heals to the uttermost. My hope is that some reader may happen upon this post and, in response, consider his/her own actions. We must all have our "Come to Jesus" time. I hope you've had yours.