Dennis confessed one of his deepest hurts. "I have three brothers, " he told his friend Amy. "When my father introduced us, he said my brothers' names; and then he always said, 'and this is our retarded son, Dennis. It always made me feel so bad." Dennis sobbed uncontrollably as the years of heartbreak washed over him again.
Amy tried to comfort him. she explained that years ago many people thought sharing this information as Dennis' dad did was OK. Perhaps they thought people with disabilities didn't really understand. "So you see," Amy consoled, "they didn't know their words would hurt."
But Dennis understood, and that label cut to the core. After decades, Dennis still heard; 'My son is retarded."
We all have labels in our thought closets we wish weren't there. Some we place on ourselves, like idiot or whatever names you call yourself. Labels hurt, don't they? Some labels don't originate with us, though. Like Dennis, we receive labels from someone else. Think about the labels in your thought closet.
Post your top three most hurtful, destructive labels:
I really can't even type them out. To me they are so hurtful I can't even type them. I know what they are and so does God. They are not ones that I gave to myself.
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