It’s bright outside. I would usually be wearing my sunglasses but they are, as you can see, on the top of my head- my little friend here, hanging on my back, put them there. Throughout my time with her today, she took my sunglasses off my face three times. Each time, I expected her to wear them (like she usually does), but today she didn’t. Each time she took them, she put them on my head while laughing and looking into my eyes, and then she pressed her little face against mine. She wanted to see me.
What she didn’t know is that my sunglasses were there for a purpose. Today was my last day in this ghetto and I was fighting tears the entire time- no leaving has been harder for me on the Race. My heart was breaking and I was fighting the battle between hiding behind my glasses and allowing myself to be seen.
We had to leave shortly after. Explaining to her in a language that she didn’t understand that I had to go, I untangle myself as she tries to cling to me and I hear her call out my name as I rush to catch my bus… I lose it. Completely. Tears raining down my face, chest closing in, gasping for breath, I sit on the bus and focus on my breathing in an attempt to calm down. A teammate ventures a question but I am literally unable to form words. (Praise God for my beautiful teammate who, a few stops later, jumps off the bus with me and literally walks with me through this moment.)
God sees her, I know this. He has her in the palm of His hand. But this baby girl… she has a lot stacked against her and a long road ahead of her. I want to shield her, protect her… but I have to let go. A shadow of the pain He feels, God has been showing me how His heart breaks for His children. I’m a mess… but I’m grateful for every tear. My soul’s in agony but I know He doesn’t waste pain. He’s at work in me… and I’m grateful.
