Betrayed Days, Redeemed Days
May I please rewind to a time when I didn’t know the word “betrayed”? Betrayed is such a bad-tasting word. Those letters leaves an acrid taste in my mouth, like smoke after a fire. The flames may be gone, yes, but the awful ashes remain. I wish betrayed meant what the little girl at the front of the church last Sunday thought it meant. When the leader telling the children a story asked if anyone knew the meaning of betrayed, the pigtailed pixie mentioned carrying food on a tray. Be-trayed. If only that were truly the meaning, but I know better. After…