I have no name. If I had a name I would be a real person. As a doll, a thing, nobody has to think about me, meet my needs, or include me in anything. “This is my - - - friend, sister, brother, son, employee, daughter, etc., etc. etc.”
I sit on a shelf until others want to play with me. They take me down when I meet their needs, or when they want something. I am recognized when I am convenient, and put back on the shelf when I am not.
Nobody has to think about me, or meet my needs because I am not real.
People complain. They stab me in the heart. I get blamed for everything. I am good, but I am also bad, or so they say. I am needy for wanting to be a part of them. They say I am selfish. Me! How could they?
No one has any time for me. I am loved when they want to, acknowledged when they choose to, used when they need to, then stuck back in the closet, left in the dark again.
All I do is love them. That’s my only crime. Why can’t they see this?
What’s my name? Do you even know? I am the one person who has loved you more than anyone else ever will. Who am I?
Lori? Bill? Mary? Joe?
……… Jesus of Nazareth
“If you acknowledge me before men, I will acknowledge you before my Father in Heaven.”
Take me off the shelf please. I have been waiting for you.
~Until next time,
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