|Charity and me circa 1988|
We each experience pain, and even though everyone in the family is hurting, it's still difficult to look past your own pain and think about someone else's. Coming up with words to describe your own pain is a tall order. Thinking you have enough information to give an account of another parson's trial is dangerous territory. I've found this out the hard way.
Writing our story in this book-blogging project has forced me to humble myself with my family. This isn't false piety, it's forced me to really think about how my communication about my point of view affects someone I love. As I watch these words appear on the screen, I'm thinking: this is relationships 101. That's a course I've failed. I'm trying for a do-over.
In this the 16th post in our project, I had my daughter (pictured above in my arms), read this before I clicked "publish". I'd love to know what you think about what I write, but nothing matters more to me than what she thinks. Click here to read post 16.