June 10
Right here. This is why. The blood. The sweat. The tears. Oh, so many tears. This is why it’s worth it.
Little Girl, seeing your face light up with delight… Watching you slowly, ever so slowly, let down your guard… Holding you for hours until you realize that you are, at least for the moment, safe.
I pray God always keeps you safe. I pray God surrounds you with people you can trust so that you no longer flinch away when arms reach out to you. I pray you know how loved you are by your Father and you feel that love every day. I pray God pursues you relentlessly and carries you every moment of your life.
Little Girl, I love you. Fiercely. Much more than I ever thought I could love. Much more than is probably safe for me.
In 10 days I will walk out of your life, but, Little Girl, you will always have a big sister praying for you. I promise.
June 16th
I’m not going to lie, I volunteered to go pick up the kids for AWANA with the hope I’d see you again. I’m not sure what happened, why your family wouldn’t let you come with us, but I’m grateful for the time we had together. As we left, I watched from the bus as you sat on the curb, arms crossed, a scowl on your face, obviously mad you couldn’t come with us. But I saw you light up when I caught your eye one last time- and you waved, sweet girl.
Little girl, I had to let you go. I had to choose to remember that I’m not your savior. I had to choose to trust that God is holding you in His hand, protecting you through the hard times, celebrating with you during the good… I know you don’t understand, but it’s time for my team to move on. I have to choose to believe that I did all I could, loved you as well as I could have for the time God gave us, or else I won’t be able to leave this place.
