A deeply painful essay to read, The New Scar On My Soul begins:
My soul carries a new scar. The pain is fresh and keen, and I know that while time might see the pain fade, I will never fully recover from what I’ve seen, and done. For I have failed, intentionally and knowingly, in the first duty of a parent: protecting the lives of two of my children.
How he fails is the deeply painful, indeed searing, part. I’m not sure of the spiritual propriety of this, but I am unspeakably grateful that this is one sin I don’t have on my conscience — though the Christian knows that at the Judgment he may hear “No, granted, you didn’t do that, but you did do this and that and the other thing, and you did them over and over,” and he may find himself miles and miles behind this man in the entry line for the heavenly gates if not on the boat to Purgatory.
But in this life, anyway, I’m not sure I could bear it or show the courage in facing it the writer does. Most of you will feel the same, I think. It’s one of those things that make you long for the grace of God, because some sins you’ll never, ever, be able to talk yourself into accepting. We need more than the hope of balancing the scales of justice the writer mentions at the end.
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