For the Helpers

I have hesitated to write this post, and struggled in the writing, because it can become a toe-stomping hoedown. I’ve had infections that hurt less than some of the things that were said to me during the years we were trying to find our family. I know friends that have experienced the same thing. There was no place where I was immune from the inappropriate questions and remarks. But there was one place where I was especially exposed. One place worse than all the others. One place where all the questioners seemed to gather with dry-cleaned clothes and journals full of great ideas.

Church.

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