A Grief That Fills My Soul
It has been a rough week for me. My heart has been heavy as I think about my oldest daughter and pray earnestly for her. Surrendering her to another was difficult enough. Now praying and hoping that she will see the truth? Well, that is even harder somehow. As the others sleep peacefully through the night unaware of the ravings of this wounded warrior, I pray as I have never prayed before. Clenching my fists, I raise them to God and cry out for his mercy. I cannot lose another child!
I plead for Rachelle. I plead for her soul, for her sight, for her healing. I plead to the one who can do all things, and I know it is He who gives me the will to pray. I cry for the daughter of my dreams that is among the walking dead. I cry for all that she has missed, all the pain she has embodied. I cry for her losses and ours. I cry, and in the midst of my sorrow I sense the sorrow of my Lord. I want to do something, anything, that will help her. I want to run and hold her close, to wash her in my tears and caress her with my words of love. I want to do something.
Then I remember it is not about me. I have done all of those things, and now I fight this unseen war on my knees as I never have before. I will never give up or back down. I will for all of my life carry her before the throne.
I must remember that she was never really mine. She has always been God's.