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Rated: E · Prose · Emotional · #2025542
A friend asked me to write about pain & neglect and giving the glory to God.
Pain and Neglect

By

J.Lee McKenzie


It hurts; the wounds that have cut me to the bone. I wonder maybe if they will ever heal. Somehow I doubt it. I've had so many, I'm certain there isn't an inch of my soul that isn't scarred. There have been days when I believed I would never cry because I simply didn't have any left. How could I when I've cried for so long? But they never stop coming. An endless burden soaking my flesh faster than my blood.
It's not really funny how I got here but I cannot stop the laughter boiling up from somewhere inside. Somewhere that should have died long ago. Or so I thought.

But you don't flinch at these foreign sounds coming from the outer most recesses of my soul. You continue healing. Wiping away my blood with your own cloak. Stained crimson against the purest white I've ever seen. When I first turned my eyes toward you it almost hurt. I had to look away but you just laughed and told me not to worry. You would make it better. You never said you make the pain stop, you never said you would make it all go away. You said simply, "I will make it better."

It still hurts. So, why this laughter? Why now? I know you know me. I know you know what I've done. I've felt your eyes on me before. The eyes that are so diligently checking me for more wounds. You saw me cower before those who hurt. You knew I wouldn't try to make it stop. I was helpless. Hopeless. I was exactly what they said I was. The reason for my torture was genuine because I was no better. They all knew and that's why they hurt me. That's why I hurt others because I'm no better. And you see me. See me for what I am.

I didn't say it but you heard it and you simply smiled.

"I know who you are. It is you that does not know."

I won't argue. I can't. I know nothing. I certainly won't pretend. But I wonder. If you know, why this healing? Why stain your beautiful garment with my tainted blood? What am I worth? I have never been worth anything before. I certainly hold no value now.

Again you smile. "I assure you. You are worthy."

Your words grip my heart and I swear I feel pieces of my soul tear and stitch back together. Once again I cannot argue but this time I don't know why. It seems there is some authority in your voice. An authority I've never experienced in all my years, among all those who have come before me. I have no reason to believe you. I've done nothing of worth. There's never been a moment of proof. Simply abuse and neglect given to me and taken from me. But there's more to these words, from this man, who seems more than just a man, kneeled at my feet, cleaning wounds that were seemingly well deserved. I suddenly feel the urge to trade places with you. I must be down there. You were without doubt meant to be up here.

I try to move but I cannot. I beg you please. You simply smile. I can no longer argue. You are where you want to be and I am humbled. Never have I felt such a strange feeling. Words are too simplistic to describe such a thing. For a moment I feel panic. I know at some point my wounds will heal and you will be gone. What if I had never sustained these wounds in the first place? Would you have never come? The thought was almost unbearable. It's strange how my pain now seems so relevant. It brought me here. It brought me to this moment, watching you at my feet, feeling something more than I've ever felt, knowing now that I was never in any real danger because you were coming to make it all better.

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