Featherlight
How do you tell a woman that her dreams of ever parenting her son again are dashed? How do you tell her it's too late - she's screwed up too many times in her addiction - and now her only option is to fight for an open adoption in hopes that her relationship with her flesh and blood won't be severed forever?
And then, how do you cope when she falls apart in front of you, spiraling into a level of rage and madness you've never seen before?
The answer is the same: by the grace of God.
As I stood there in her doorway, witnessing the hurricane of emotion take its toll on her body (as well as her bedroom), I remember sensing His presence so clearly. I knew it had to be Him. How else could I have held it together as she ripped her only photos of her young boy off the walls and shred them into tiny pieces? I tried reaching out to comfort her, which only incited her more. Her eyes flashed as she stared at me and said, "I don't care. It's fine. They can take my kid. I'll just have another."
She didn't mean that.
I knew it, and so did she.
She was clinging to just a few precious weeks of sobriety. Her brain still had so much clearing to do. Her body was desperately trying to normalize. And yet, in her heartbreak, she could see no other option. The wounds of this world had ripped so deeply into her soul that she was convinced healing was impossible. She saw herself as a lost cause.
I saw her as beautiful. And deeply, deeply loved.
Looking back on it now, I probably should have been more concerned for my safety. She hurled not one, but two Bibles in my direction. She was reacting violently. But beyond her wrath and fury, I saw the suffocation of her brokenness, and I knew she longed to be set free.
When she launched the second Bible, it caught on the corner of her pillow which burst upon impact. And in that moment, I witnessed a beautiful metaphor of grace. As the Word hit the floor with a vicious thump, my heart cringed beneath its resounding weight. But this heaviness was quickly replaced by a burst of tiny white feathers floating unencumbered in the opposite direction.
The impact of the Truth had not destroyed her pillow, but rather released its hidden beauty.
Grace longs to exchange the heaviness of this world for the featherweight freedom of redemption.
Learn to be free.
Questions? Let's chat.
And then, how do you cope when she falls apart in front of you, spiraling into a level of rage and madness you've never seen before?
The answer is the same: by the grace of God.
As I stood there in her doorway, witnessing the hurricane of emotion take its toll on her body (as well as her bedroom), I remember sensing His presence so clearly. I knew it had to be Him. How else could I have held it together as she ripped her only photos of her young boy off the walls and shred them into tiny pieces? I tried reaching out to comfort her, which only incited her more. Her eyes flashed as she stared at me and said, "I don't care. It's fine. They can take my kid. I'll just have another."
She didn't mean that.
I knew it, and so did she.
She was clinging to just a few precious weeks of sobriety. Her brain still had so much clearing to do. Her body was desperately trying to normalize. And yet, in her heartbreak, she could see no other option. The wounds of this world had ripped so deeply into her soul that she was convinced healing was impossible. She saw herself as a lost cause.
I saw her as beautiful. And deeply, deeply loved.
Looking back on it now, I probably should have been more concerned for my safety. She hurled not one, but two Bibles in my direction. She was reacting violently. But beyond her wrath and fury, I saw the suffocation of her brokenness, and I knew she longed to be set free.
When she launched the second Bible, it caught on the corner of her pillow which burst upon impact. And in that moment, I witnessed a beautiful metaphor of grace. As the Word hit the floor with a vicious thump, my heart cringed beneath its resounding weight. But this heaviness was quickly replaced by a burst of tiny white feathers floating unencumbered in the opposite direction.
The impact of the Truth had not destroyed her pillow, but rather released its hidden beauty.
Grace longs to exchange the heaviness of this world for the featherweight freedom of redemption.
 |
| via |
Questions? Let's chat.
Comments
ILUVU,
DAD