(no subject)
Today I took Liv to get three of her baby teeth pulled. The oral surgeon had a teeny waiting room in his office...it was obviously designed to be a hall or an entryway and not a waiting room. Liv and I got there, filled out the proper paperwork, and then sat down to peruse magazines. The door opened and a woman walked in and up to the counter. I looked up and noted that she was very masculine in appearance, and then I realized she was wearing a uniform of some sort. Another woman came in the door behind her but I didn't even look up at that woman, though I could see in my peripheral vision that she was dressed brightly. I went back to my magazine, and then a sound caught my attention, immediately piercing my mind, my heart, my entire consciousness. I looked up. The woman was wearing bright orange. The sound was the sound of chains. She was shackled, handcuffed and chained hands and feet. The other woman's uniform was for the department of corrections. A prisoner had come for dental work of some kind.
She had beautiful hair. Long spirals of curls that were pretty even without products to smooth them and make them shiny and manageable. In fact, she was a pretty girl, probably in her mid to late twenties. I didn't look much, though. I thought it was probably pretty humiliating to be shackled in public, and I didn't want to make her uncomfortable by giving her the sense she was being stared at.
It's hard when you can see the chains of another. It was uncomfortable to sit in that tiny room with a person whose every move caused her chains to rattle and chink. Why in the world is it easier to tolerate spiritual chains than it is physical ones? Why do we pretend we can turn a blind eye to someone's bondage simply because the chains are in a realm we can't see with our eyes? When I look at people and I see their invisible chains, my heart hurts--especially when I realize that they are so accustomed to the weight and the restriction that they think it's normal to be shackled and bound. It hurts even more when I realize that few are drawn to the task of helping their brothers and sisters walk out of those chains.
Chains are not a normal fashion accessory in the Kingdom.
She had beautiful hair. Long spirals of curls that were pretty even without products to smooth them and make them shiny and manageable. In fact, she was a pretty girl, probably in her mid to late twenties. I didn't look much, though. I thought it was probably pretty humiliating to be shackled in public, and I didn't want to make her uncomfortable by giving her the sense she was being stared at.
It's hard when you can see the chains of another. It was uncomfortable to sit in that tiny room with a person whose every move caused her chains to rattle and chink. Why in the world is it easier to tolerate spiritual chains than it is physical ones? Why do we pretend we can turn a blind eye to someone's bondage simply because the chains are in a realm we can't see with our eyes? When I look at people and I see their invisible chains, my heart hurts--especially when I realize that they are so accustomed to the weight and the restriction that they think it's normal to be shackled and bound. It hurts even more when I realize that few are drawn to the task of helping their brothers and sisters walk out of those chains.
Chains are not a normal fashion accessory in the Kingdom.