On The Stewardship Of Words
I’d stepped inside for just a moment, just long enough to grab the pot of macaroni and cheese off of the stove–when I heard the shouting on the patio. Ugly words flying like fiery arrows across the iron table, wounds splitting in the fray.
I grabbed his arm firm, and leaned in close enough–eye to eye. I hushed him, and sent him immediately in the house. His head hung and my heart beat wild in my chest.
His showing was hideous. But it hit me even harder that day because I’m still trying to get over another painful display of words that I witnessed, only that one wasn’t in my back yard–it was in my online neighborhood, and that’s still too close for comfort …
I’m sharing this story over at the Allume blog today, join me HERE to finish reading.