"I have just the question for you: who are you?" "I just told you," said the young man. "No, you told me about the clothes you wear. You told me your name, where you’re from, what you've done, the things you've studied. Your problem is, you don’t know who you are. Let me tell you who you are. You are a ray of God's own light."
I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.
I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany,but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.
