This Sunday I am teaching Sunday School about prisoners. A friend lent me the side rails of a crib to use as bars, and I will tie kids to their chairs. Along with ropes we will use paper chains with words like "Resentment" and "Greed". It is hard to predict whether
seven years olds will make the connection between the entrapment of a jail and the emotions that hobble us like lame horses.
Last month I had lunch with a friend. We have been estranged for years but one day after church I stepped over our misunderstanding and invited
her. She smiled.
"That would be nice." I think she was as surprised as I was.
I am wistful to think of the time we lost. Things like Being Right and Teaching Her a Lesson strapped me tighter than clanking chains. This is unfortunately not an isolated instance. There are other people I have crossed off my To Like list.
Over the course
of our meal I heard her story. It is different than my story, or the narrative of others in our circle of acquaintances, but it was worth hearing, and holding safely in my hands.
There was a time when two people with incongruent experiences created tension for me. One of them
had to be wrong. But the urgency to make them fit has drifted away.
I suppose this is what freedom feels like.
