I see you.

Staying in another temporary home, a new baby boy shows up, crying and taking up all of Mommy’s time. You don’t understand why this little creature is so special and why you need to be “sweet” to him.

Mommy might seem distracted, but I see you.

Hours strapped to a carseat, only to wait in line in a brightly lit, overcrowded building where you are asked to walk through strange equipment. More lines, more sitting.

You don’t know where we are going or fully understand why. All you know is that another transition is coming, and your life will be different again.

But you smile anyway and make it into an adventure. “Look mommy, clouds!”

I see you.

Running through another grocery store (since we are staying in a new town again), singing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” at the top of your lungs. You have all of the energy that your parents lack. Everyone who hears your little voice smiles because your sweet innocence brightens their day.

They don’t know that you are out of your “element” and that your familiar world is constantly being rocked.

I might seem focused on getting groceries, but I see you.

Hiding behind my legs at your cousins’ house, afraid to join in because even though they look just like you, they are different. They play with foreign toys and use different words. I desperately want to help you feel comfortable, but my attempts are met with screaming and fear.

I see you, taking brave little steps after days of observing, to join in and play.

Pushing and screaming, you try to kick your friends out of our home. Everyone is confused, including yourself, because just 6 months ago you were playing perfectly fine with them. After days of living in timeout for your aggressive behavior and unwillingness to share, you retreat from our neighbors again and whisper into my ear, “Mommy, no Spanish please.”

When I ask you if you want to practice your Spanish so that you can play with your friends like you used to, your face lights up and you say, “Sí, ¡por favor!”

What a life you have lived at only three years old!

Forgive me for all the times I have lost my patience with you or misunderstood your emotions and behaviors.

You might not believe it now, but I see you.

And even though you might feel disheveled, I want you to know that you are the bravest little girl I know.

I’m in no hurry to see you grow up, but I know that you are going to be a grounded woman, your identity rooted in Christ Jesus.

So stay brave, sweet girl.

But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.

Jeremiah 17:7-8

Published by

2 thoughts on “Brave

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s