Tears sprang to my eyes without warning. I stood at the door wringing my hands like “those other” nervous moms do.
My not yet 6 year old was leaving with her Daddy and our dear “Uncle” to give
blankets to the cold,
shoes to the shoeless and
umbrellas to the roofless.
Our oldest daughter is our little one who feels everything deeply. EVERYTHING.
Like when it’s time to get a new toothbrush, she mourns the loss of her old one.
And when it’s time to read the story of how Jesus gave it all and rescued us through is death, she covers her ears because she cannot bear his agony.
So how would she handle it?
Would bearing witness to the suffering break her heart?
Was she too young to see the truth about our broken world?
Or is it my heart I am worried about. I was relieved that two of our babes were sleeping and I had a good excuse to stay put at home. I was not feeling brave enough to risk a heart broken or deal with the flood of “WHY GOD?” that would come after I looked into the eyes of the struggling ones.
And as I watched her leave, I could only ponder how young and tender she was.
But then He said…
But she is also brave.
Papa’s Hope sprung up where Momma’s tears had been.
It was true!
She IS brave!
She is the same 3 year old who went down the huge water slide on vacation all by herself.
She is the same 4 year old who yelled “higher” when pushed on a swing.
She is the same 5 year old who let Daddy yank on her loose tooth.
She is my little one who chooses to be brave when her Momma won’t.
And I marvel at this little one…
this tenderhearted warrior
…who will change the world
as she has changed mine.
“Feed the hungry and help those in trouble.
Then your light will shine out of the darkness
and the darkness around you will be as bright as noon.”
Isaiah 58:10
[ Find out more about Bethany here ]
