Today and every Thursday, I am re-posting an old blog post from the archives and sometimes even an old writing piece I've never shared publicly before. Sometimes I need to be reminded of my own words and I hope they will be an encouragement to others too.
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Through A Crack In The Door
(blog post from February 2013 originally shared here)
I hear her breathing, softly in and out. She is four going on fourteen and I just want time to slow down or stand still in the here and now.
In the quiet of the night, I imagine her story. It unfolds in whispers of a girl become woman, dancing to her own beat, waltzing through life with a love heart that loves so deep and strong it hurts.
She is like me and yet she is not. She is my heart beating outside my own body, invisible ties forever binding our lives together.
As I listen and wonder, I hear the creek and squeak of her bed. She cracks the door open and peeks out, one eye still hidden behind the door, the other peering deep into my own. It's as if she is searching my soul, trying to figure me out at the same time she wants to know and understand her own heart and soul.
"I so scared..." she whispers. And with arms open wide and heart wider, I welcome her into the arms of a mother's love that knows no end. I whisper to her fears the same way God whispers to my own.
"It's okay, sweetie. You don't need to be afraid."
And as I speak to her heart, I speak even louder to my own. I can feel fear knocking at the door of my soul, but I don't have to open that door.
I am not my fears and they are not me.
I have a choice to make: to be afraid or not. And as I ponder this truth I remember:
She watches me closely and wants to be like mommy. My entire life is on display for this one searching for a truth to hold onto and grow into.
What truth will she see in me to mirror and live?
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