The radical mastectomy left her worn out, frightened, but most of all it left her deformed. She was still a young woman, nice figure, lovely face. And married. It was the married part that worried her. She knew her husband loved her – but now? Now what? It was time to go home to him and she feared what might be in store. That night she changed in the bathroom and slipped into bed. It felt so good to be home, to be back in his arms. They were gentle and loving. Then, oh then, he unbuttoned her pajama top and lightly traced his finger over the long red scar. He kissed it ever so softly. As the tears ran down her face she relaxed in his love. Accepted! Loved! Still!

Oh, thank you, God!

We all have moments when we feel unlovable. We are too stupid, too ugly, too untalented, too ordinary or not ordinary enough. We long to be accepted – to have the “real me” accepted. But often we are afraid to be known, afraid the “real me” will not past muster. And that makes us afraid to be spontaneous and be true to ourselves. Read the rest of this entry »