Becoming Free

I picked up a hitch-hiker, sympathetically listened to her story of abandonment, degradation and abuse as we drove along, and then dropped her off at the entrance to the campgrounds where she was 'crashing'. By the time I entered my comfortable home, I was awash with the pain of my decision not to bring her home with me.

Her wounds, and the wounds of all women, are my own wounds. The painting is infused with prayer for healing.

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