Reflections of a Marriage Counselor

Okay, I admit it, I’m addicted.
So what, I can’t help it.  They are everywhere.
Faces, faces, and endless river of faces
Flowing through my days like a holiday parade.
Cameos and gargoyles, hunters and victims,
Wise and reckless faces
Weaving their stories together
In the great tapestry of life.

And me, I want to touch them all.
I want to feel their words and hear their eyes.
I want to go backstage, behind their scripts
And drink beer with the actors.

Most are hiding somewhere inside their wrinkles and smiles.
They are afraid to come out in the light because it isn’t safe.
“Of course it isn’t safe,” I warn them.
“That’s what it means to be human,
To be naked, to be loved.”

Each week I listen to thirsty faces
And pour out glasses of life.
Some drink deeply
And laugh as color fills their dying eyes.
Most just watch, and whine and wonder why.

Broken faces come to my office
And spill pieces of love on my floor.
Together we glue the good ones in place
And throw out the ones that won’t fit.
“Love isn’t safe,” I tell them.
“That’s what makes it so much fun.”

I see and feel their hungry faces.
They look to me and say,
“Feed me, hear me, heal me.”
They ask so much.
Love is exhausting.
It just isn’t safe.

I find a mountain and climb into the sky.
With hands lifted I look at God’s face
And drink in the universe until I am filled.
It feeds me, hears me, heals me, knows me.
We are brothers.
I am again revived and ready again to seek out faces,
Empty faces that need to come out of hiding,
Drink in the life and love until it hurts.
God, I love those faces.

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