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"We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love. But always meeting ourselves." 
James Joyce
Response to "Our Meeting"

Response to "Our Meeting"

Dear Laura Wade,

There are so many times I have thought back to that day on my side portch in Richmond. in retrospect, I can see how much courage it took for you to not just be in my presence, but to risk asking for help by revealing you were reading The Wounded Heart. But at the time, I was just as scared as you. Scared and clueless about how to help. 

Over the years, I have hated the part of me that can't pull up words when I feel like I need them most. Hated the cloud of jumbled thoughts that descends when intimacy comes to my door. That day, I did know this was an important and courageous step you were taking but I felt so helpless and inadequate to help in the presence of your desire. I felt such compassion and felt your terror and desperate need to be free but I had no idea what to say, except to encourage you to see my counselor and to promise he was kind. I felt so inadequate.

So, as I read your letter, I chuckle a little about how my not running and not pursuing too hard was just what your heart needed! Wish I could claim wisdom on that one, but I have to, instead be thankful that God is in charge of every interraction and life, not me...I don't have to get it right, or say the most profound thing. Just being me is enough. It's what He wanted and you needed. I am humbled, to say the least.

And so very grateful...that God ordained that time and kept the relationship so protected. You just left our house after a long weekend visit and both Wes and I felt and stated your presence was balm for our weary souls. You summon creativity, freedom, and laughter. With you, we both feel free to be messy or quiet or playful. Or to do hard labor of stacking a woodpile and trying to figure out how in the hell a blogsight works. So, I consider that day on my side porch so long ago a gift. And you... a gift... 

Love to you,

Cynthia

Stacking Wood

Stacking Wood

Our Meeting

Our Meeting