I’m over at Rachel Held Evans’ blog today sharing my story in more detail. It’s not a tale of spiritual abuse, but of sexual abuse and the scar that followed me the rest of my life. Note: trigger alert.
On a recent run, I watched as two young boys, maybe first graders, labored up a hill with their scooters on the way to school. Smiles, wind, joy encircled the scene. But what made it even more sweet was this: a mom drove behind them, slower than slow, making sure they made it to school. They wanted adventure. She recognized that, but she also realized something important about this life: children need protection.