I remember years ago in Korea in the Peace Corps, how I felt the first time I partook of the daily culture of "just sitting" together with friends in informal tearooms in Seoul, without saying a word; at first I felt quite nervous and bored, but when I was able to relax my mind and just be, it was a refreshing communion... each moment's meeting of a person or even a flower is precious and fleeting, it is to be savored completely, perhaps best in silence.
I gave up trying to stop the tears. I abandoned my ruined defenses:
"I don't deserve any support from God after what I did." "Maybe not, but God's not interested in operating a brownie-point system – only in loving and forgiving those who are brave enough not to deny what they've done, no matter how terrible, brave enough to be truly sorry, brave enough to resolve to make a fresh start in serving Love as well as they possibly can."
I sat there with tears streaming down my face, and then just as I was thinking how utterly I was cut off from the Great Healer, that shining, mysterious figure I had tried so hard for so long to follow, Clare reached out across the table and briefly covered my clenched fists with her scarred hands.