Just a break
That is all. That’s it. A break. I want to wake up and not
see your face. I want to walk outside and not have you greet me. I want to
enter a store or a clinic without you asking for something. I want a day, an
hour, even just a minute of peace and rest.
I am exhausted. I feel plagued. I have spent two weeks
wanting to write. Two weeks thinking, processing, now I have silence… Then
another clang is at my gate. Shhhh… I want a sign that says baby sleeping. You
wouldn’t be able to read it.
I want a guard that sends you away and tells you to leave me
alone. You wouldn’t understand it.
I pay you to take my garbage so you can find food amongst
the smelly leftovers and buy water to drink. I give you my moldy clothes and
broken sandles so you can be clothed. And daily you ask me for more. Daily you
find me. I buy your half rotten oranges because I wonder what it would be like
if it was all I had to offer the only form of survival. I offer you my last
tortilla praying with every ounce of my being my husband will have a patient
today so he can bring home dinner.
Then I watch. I watch your young children come with your
babies hoping I will give medicine. I make them laugh. I play with them trying
to catch a twinkle in the deepest parts of their eyes. I touch them giving them
the only form of healthy affection that they will most likely ever know in
their lives. I get annoyed by the frequent visits as I turn to go back inside.
I listen as the judge comes and tells me about the most
recent sex traffickers being caught. I hear a name I recognize. It was her.
I begged to be left alone. I pleaded for silence. Now I am
consumed by the guilt and the bitter frustration that I didn’t step in sooner.
The voice that once annoyed me I wonder if I could have helped. The banging and
knocking, the pleads for assistance. What if I had stopped and truly listened?
What if my plans and to-do lists had been set to rest for an hour or two? Would
it have changed your future? Could I have saved your pain?
There is no training. There is no preparation. The
frustration. The guilt. The anger. The bitterness. The helplessness. Nothing
could ever prepare me for the emotions I feel.
My heart aches. I think it is breaking into pieces. There is
a love I know to be so pure. So kind. So genuine. I want to share it. I want to
pour it out. I want to take each and every one of them and place them in the
most beautiful crystal encasing and show them what it is to truly be a
princess. A King. A Savior. A Provider. A Healer. The One that can change it
all. The One that intended for all things good and beautiful, to know and be
known. How would she ever know? How can she ever comprehend? Did He hear her
cry? Does He see her tears? You can say yes, but when it only feels like a NO
what is left?
She questions her birth? I tell her of a purpose and a
destiny. She wonders if I’m drugged. If only she weren’t living. I assure her
there is a bigger picture. One she can’t see. One she can’t trust. If the
bigger picture was always there than why did she suffer the hurt?
Questions. Answers. Questions. Thoughts. Questions without
answers.
Preparation? A life full of love. Pre-requisite? Willing
heart. Duties? Too many to name.
Looking for someone to help fill some shoes. The one that
walked before me left an impression to big for me to fill. Please send some
extra hands and feet.
