In the Hand of God
For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7 KJV
I stand quietly in the doorway of her bedroom. She is reading and hasn't noticed that I am there. I see it on her face and in her eyes. I simply walk away because there isn't anything I can say to make it better.
She didn't say anything when she came in from school today. She just headed to her room to read. I saw it in the way she walked, slow and with her head down. I saw in in her face as she sat slumped on her bed reading. She doesn't have to say a word...I know it all too well. I know what it feels like to have your heart relocate to your stomach on a permanent basis. I know what it feels like to have the tears fall into your cereal. I know the sick feeling you get when you head to bed knowing when you wake up you must face it again. I know what it feels like to not dare look in the mirror while you're brushing your teeth because your tearstained face will make you cry again.
You try to convince yourself that you don't really care, but the hurt screams otherwise. You catch yourself imagining where you could run to and no one would be able to find you just so you can escape for a little while and rest from it. You try to figure out what it was that you did to make her hate you so much, but you just can't put your finger on it. And sometimes if you're lucky, you're able to forget for a minute. You get absorbed in a song or a television show and just for a minute you forget your reality, your darkness, but then it returns to slap you across the face and you find yourself fighting back the tears.
I find myself wanting to take her in my arms and cry with her. I want to tell her that I will protect her. I want to lavish her with compliments and remind her how very special she is and how much she is loved. I want to tell her all the things about her that I find beautiful. I want to give her peace. And yet I know that none of these things will take it away. Nothing I can say or do will remove the darkness she finds herself in or take away the feeling of confusion and hurt. But I know Who can. And I turn from her doorway and I go to a quiet place where I can enter His presence. I beg Him to cover her with His hand. I beg Him to shelter her from this unbearable pain and to calm her fears. And I find peace. This God who created this blessing speaks to this mother's heart and says that He loves her more than I do. He reminds me that I held her in my arms at Pleasant View Baptist Church and we as parents dedicated her to Him and He didn't take that lightly. He reminds me that I am raising an Esther and that much of this bully situation comes from the fact that she belongs to Him.
And as I thank HIm and start to leave, He tugs softly at my heart and whispers. He whispers my name and reminds me that I am His baby girl too. He reminds me that His love for me is no different than this love I have for this hurting girl of mine. He whispers in my ear and reminds me that He understands what I feel for her. He has held me in His arms many times when I was hurting. He too has wanted to lavish me with His love and remind me that in His eyes I am beautiful just the way I am. He reminds me that He wants to give me peace and to take away my pain. And so I carry her to Him in prayer and I am reminded what it means to be His. I am reminded that she is His. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that both of us will be fine as long as we find ourselves in the arms of our Father.