Reporting from the darkness

It seems that lately I have found myself in the way of hearing some dark stories. I’m not at liberty nor would I think of sharing them. But I will say that a dark story shared across the trusted space of friendship in Christ, where people become brothers and sisters and really family; then there is hope. I know because I have dark stories myself, and I have shared them. These are pearls, I feel, not to be thrown before those whose sensibilities are greedy heads-in-the-trough-grunting. These are pearls, I feel, because they are the places around which grace catches and builds beauty—the grit around which Christ’s love anchors and grows. I believe this—not because someone told me it is true—but because I have experienced it and do experience it, just as surely as the wind often blows through my hair, and I feel it.