You may write me down in history,

with your bitter, twisted lies,

you may tread me in the very dirt

but, still like dust, I ‘ll arise

Just like moons and like suns

, with the certain of  tides,

just like hopes springing high, still I’ll arise

do you want to see me broken?

bowed head and lowered eyes?

 shoulders falling down like teardrops.

weakened by my soulful  cries.

you may shoot me with your words,

 you may cut me with your eyes,

you may kill me with your hatefulness,

but still, like air, I’ll arise.

out of the huts of history’s shame

I rise,

Up from a past that’s’ rooted in pain

I rise

Into a daybreak that’s

wondrously clear

I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave

I am the dream and the hope of the enslaved.

I rise, I rise, I rise.

taken from Maya Angelou. Still I Rise!

        Like the Samaritan Woman found in John 4 1-42 (website for full story).  I am facing another divorce.  This is thefourth time I am going thru the trauma of leaving another home and journeying alone. I am sure that everytme this woman married another man, she was hoping that he would treat her  kindly and that he would see her as a “keeper”.  I like to ponder about what her life was like, her background the culture of the day in which she lived, the stigma on her.  I am relunctant to tell people that I have been married four times.  There is   a stigma on multiple marriages, no matter the reason behind it.  Society loves to heap shame and guilt on those that already suffer with those agonizing emotioins.