If I had seven sons you would still be my favorite. You’re all that's kept me alive on this road that I travel, but I’ve hung back from contacting you . I wanted to find you, every day, every year. My intentions were good, but I can’t trust myself. Every time I think I’ve got the demon licked, it grabs me and kicks my guts so hard that I wake up right where I passed out. Like old Saint Paul, I pray for God to remove this thorn; but there it is, eating me up. I don’t even like the taste anymore, but liquor doesn’t care what I like. Today I stood on the mound and felt the vibrations of the old ones. The soles of my feet grew warmer and warmer, like they knew they touched sacred ground. Atop the burial mound, I tossed a stone into the creek and wondered how much longer I can keep these secrets. The guy next door watches me, and he must be waiting. Waiting for his chance to plunder, waiting for me to break down. Linc doesn’t know it, but I specialize in brokenness. Jesus taught me that being broken is not the same as being weak, although I have more than my fair share of weakness too.
What do You think about The Fence My Father Built?
