How is it that small fluffy birds have no trouble residing in thorny trees?
So it is with family, sometimes (or especially), around the holidays.
Some try to smooth the edges, but there is still evidence of old daggers of insult and disdain. We may use the shards of injury to mend our broken spirits, but the rifts of past grievances still remain, even with their new configuration.
The nature of forgiveness, some say, is to help ourselves assuage our own anger. Forgiveness is not about letting someone get away with something. It’s about giving ourselves a chance to be free again, like little birds choosing to live happily amongst spikes and barbs.
Deep down inside the tangled underbrush our delicate hearts want to sing again.