'..I'm never gonna dance again, these guilty feet have got no rhythm .."
So after Sundays long, rambling post, I got to thinking, how hard hearted I've become. I really am a hurt, bitter, angry, disillusioned lady. When I went downtown for that outreach Saturday, I am ashamed to admit this, but my heart felt nothing. It didn't break for these people the way it should have. The way it did in Africa. Before. Have I really lost it? That passion for humanity, loving those who need help? The possibility scares me. Later that day however, we passed a lady in a truck and she was covered in tattoos, had a butch haircut, and was smoking a cigarette. Josh commented on her appearance and I took a look and said that I thought it was just her defense mechanism. She had developed this hard exterior to protect herself. She is probably so severely hurt, that this is her only way to protect herself. And that deep deep deep deep down, she is a princess wanting to be rescued and proven wrong. I actually got a lump in my throat. Go figure.
Sent from my iPhone
Welcome to my world
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