When ‘blame’ is a good word

Dear Editor,

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. Why is it I speak against this administration? Why does my skin crawl when I read about the Epstein files? Why does my heart drop when I hear about shootings of innocent protesters and mistreatment of immigrants?

Why is my heart so heavy with grief and disbelief? Why am I willing to lose friends for my beliefs?

I blame the church where I grew up.

I blame Joe and Eleanor, who led our youth group and kept us safe on our retreats, and day trips. I blame them for letting me ride with them in their RV when I felt too shy to be part of the young people. I felt like royalty

I blame them for never calling on me to pray out loud til I was ready.

I blame Jolly and Sue for their kindness and faithfulness to the young people, for their

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