Station Four: The Overt Act of Forgiveness
One of the memories that hopefully is etched into my brain permanently is the wonder I felt at the birth of my first child. I remember holding my little girl in my arms only a few hours after she had been born and my wife resting at my side in a silent, subdued room. I was filled with such wonder because of the thought that this new little one was the physical representation of the intimacy that my wife and I shared. Genetically she is half of me and half of my wife. Not that she is guaranteed to get the best part of either of us, but she is testimony to our struggle to bind ourselves together. Such intimacy requires not only commitment but also humility as we lose a little bit of ourselves in the relationship to gain what the other has to offer. But even more wondrous than my daughter being the representation of our intimacy was the fact that she was a brand new, different person. Perfect. In that one moment my daughter seemed unscathed by life and full of potential to do anything.