Cliff

Looking into her eyes, you can see the hurt. Her hug lasts a moment more than the others. She is tired; from wearing that mask for years and building up the walls of protection. What does it take to listen to her silence... to hear her heart through her overly wide-toothed smile?  She doesn't even want me to "fix it" she just wants to be understood in her struggle, to be validated, to be heard.

It's through stories that we relate; it's scientifically proven, it's a part of the brain that takes a story and forms it into a memory, translating and re-writing it. To my closest friends I am an open book, they look at me and in their eyes I see "I know you better than that." Oftentimes, they do. I see the apparent drop off in front of my feet and I have no idea where to turn. And suddenly, I am commissioned to love and support girls who stand facing their own cliffs without knowing which way is up. How can I possibly befriend a beautiful young girl and decipher and support her and all of her wonderful, messy, unspoken story -in one week?

This is what so many of us have been doing for years. Her sister hasn't spoken to her in years and she's only 15, she's lost so many family members to the same pain, she acts as sole support for her addicted mother, she only feels loved through make-up and fashion, she doesn't even want to go on. Girl after girl, story after story; I have been shaken and saddened, burdened and yet somehow, blessed with these stories. Yes, I have held too many crying girls and it completely breaks my heart, but I can't help but to smile sometimes.

Allow me to elaborate.

In this world there is good and bad, you cannot have one without the other and if you believe in the omnibenevolence of our God, there is an eternal evil as well. This is true on a world-wide scale, yes, but it is also true individually. Our struggles in life are directly proportional to our successes, our joys. Remember being a kid, running and playing, we were always bound to fall at some point, to get hurt, to cry out in pain. Remember also telling your friends, "look at this cool scar!" you'd explain the dramatic tale behind the prize-winning blemish as your friends would "ooohh," and "ahhhh."  Without that fall, what would you proudly display to your envious friends? Ok, so maybe not the best example; but through it can still be true through our adult eyes.  I for one, would never again play catch with a pair of scissors, and because of the grand ideas of my seven-year-old-self, I now have valuable knowledge to share with my children.

Listening to all these stories, I have been encouraged this summer, more than any other. True, it's RIDICULOUS the amount of pain these girls have to go through but I see the potential that they have in front of them, the unfailing promises that God has for them. So, no, maybe we can't fix what needs to be fixed or endure the struggles that they have to face, but that was never our purpose. We have been trained from the beginning, in overcoming our own struggles, to be that shoulder, to be the smile and the hope, offering encouragement where there is darkness and sharing joy when they see none.

This is what I have done.  This is what I have to offer, no more, no less. And, truthfully, somehow I have been the benefactor in all of these twisting stories. The listening, holding, grieving and laughing, has brought me back from the edge of my own cliff, making it's vastness a little less daunting.

"Be still and know that I am God."