Have you ever broken a bone? I have. When I was 11 or 12 years old I broke a finger playing in what was likely a fierce game of handball. You read that right. I was one of the cool kids who played handball in elementary school (green with envy? I thought so).
The thing with breaks is they can’t reset and heal on their own. But a doctor can reset and provide the necessary tools to create space for healing and to mend the break.
When I first learned of the realities of modern day slavery,
it felt like a bad break. How could things be so off set, out of order, out of
place and in desperate need of healing and resetting? I felt a burning rage
boil up in my gut and an overwhelming desire to barge into a brothel or brick
kiln to rescue the oppressed and give the oppressor a piece of my mind, or, let's be honest, my once broken middle finger gesture.