Our home is full of hurt people right now. It's all just part of living in a fallen and wicked world.
The pain is palpable. I see shame and self loathing on one little face as she hides behind the sofa. I see her seek for reassurance that she is still worthy and loved as she asks to play the game she gave up years ago, the one where I shop at a baby store till I find just the right one at the end and take her home.
I hear it in anothers voice as they ask, "Is heaven full of nice people? I don't think I'll be going there. Heavenly Father isn't helping me right now. I keep asking to be nicer to my mom but he's not helping me."
I see it in my other one as she bravely tries so hard to be and seem perfect... so afraid to make a mistake to add to the burden of the household that she cannot bring herself to admit any wrong doing.
I see it in the glazed eyes of a loving caretaker and breadwinner who escapes to fantasy or tennis at night to escape the pain of wanting above all to protect and care for his family. How could an enemy have crept in and sabotaged his best efforts? How can he fight and protect against the shadows that have struck?
I feel it in my heart as I woodenly move through the day, facing a glass mountain on which progress seems improbable, crying for loss of innocence,and the pain of impotence.
No doubt about it. Things are tough. Sickeningly, achingly tough.
A few miles away, Jodi is praying, "Father Help my friend! Help her family! Can't you send something? Can't you send someone?" In silence, her heart hears the answer, "I've sent them my Son."
A quick trip to Seagull Book Store, a ribbon to symbolize the gift, and a note on the back. She knocked on our door.
"This is a moveable picture. Right now move it everywhere you go - from room to room so you will always remember you are NOT ALONE! I've brought a small one for each of your girls. Are they still up?"
We sit on the edge of each bed. Jodi tearfully delivers a personalized message about her friend, also known as the healer. She tells Sunshine how he loves her freckles, her blue eyes and her fastness. (Her new shoes make her run even faster). She testifies to Ladybug about his power to forgive and erase. She shares with Little Mother his willingness to accept imperfection and heal our family.
I find myself leaning toward the picture arms outstretched just a bit, hoping, longing for a hug.
She tearfully turns to hug me as she exits. "I didn't know what to give you. I didn't know what to bring, so I just brought him."
Well his company has been most welcome. My throat has eased it's constriction, my stomach has unclenched, and each little girl went to sleep looking at their older wiser stronger older brother who has the power to see us all through this storm. Thank you Jodi for inviting such a wonderful friend to give counsel and comfort when you could not.