The Walking WoundedThis is for the walking wounded, the ones whose scars may not show, whose broken hearts have not yet mended, beaten down by friendly foes. For a grandmother who still is not free of nightmares about when she was three, but she’s on the narrow road, and she knows she’s not alone. For the young man who’s wobbly but still on his feet, trapped in the poisonous perfection of his spotless home, who flees to church from his parents’ misery. The odds may be against him, but he doesn’t stand alone. For the beautiful woman -- inside and out, her black eyes and bruises healed long ago, whose faith is overcoming distrust and doubt. She’s strong because she’s not alone. This is for the walking wounded whose heroism may not show, who stood and stand and will keep standing, who know they’re not alone. I am inspired by your fortitude. I praise him who sustains us all. Like you, I walk on with my wounds, and, with God’s help, I will not fall. –A.M. Otwell, 2004 |