young & afraid

Young and afraid,

but not for the reasons she should have to be.

Failing an algebra exam is the least of her worries

when all she craves is to be free. 

Pacing in the spotlight from a single streetlamp,

trapped and shackled by the eyes lingering in the darkness.

Love approaches with a simple “hello” and a gift,

but is it enough to release her from the invisible chains

and into the arms of Love?

Hope says, yes. 

But, this morning we left hopeless and aching.

With fear in her eyes and a 180° spin on her tennis shoes,

she slowly fades back into her unwanted spotlight.

“Blessings” and a “goodbye” she whispers 

so the darkness can’t hear her heart.

Heavy and aching, our broken hearts return 

and drive off to comfort and into the arms of Love.

Driven by Love, hope will return again 

and plant another seed, until she too is embraced. 

Tears hit both of our pillows 

once we fall into bed, laying miles apart.

Unsure how to let go of these early hours 

but not forgetting the impact of a few fleeting minutes.

Trusting the process, but letting it break my heart,

I remind myself that

she’s too young to be this afraid,

but Love is too strong 

to let fear remain. 

Hope is not fleeting, but it can be more difficult to find some nights compared to others. I’ve been processing this past Friday night for days. My heart burns for what we get to do, but when the heartache becomes too much processing takes a lot longer than normal. It wasn’t even that unusual of a night, nothing “happened.” Did it feel more heavy than usual? Yes, but not crazy enough to break my heart this intensely. From time to time the atmosphere on the track is just heavier than normal, and I am okay with that. My team talked to many girls, maybe 8 or 9; some greeted us with warm smiles and open hearts because they recognized what we have to offer. While others were skeptical and not so open, only because we haven’t met them before. All good and growing encounters, planting seeds of love along the way. The openness, the skepticism, the heartache is all a part of what we do, it’s a process that we know can never be rushed, so we go forward one step at a time. So then why did I, still, feel so off? 

Because I finally saw her. 

A couple months ago when we were going out for ministry, but couldn’t get out of the car due to COVID, I saw a girl that God instantly started to speak so much identity over. It physically pained me that I couldn’t get out of the car and just talk to her for a moment. My heart was so for her within a second of seeing her and I was determined that I would one day get to talk to her face to face. The next day my best friend, who was doing intercession at the time, handed me a painting of a girl and started to describe the words and identity that she heard God speak over her. I started to get so excited and filled with joy and tears because the girl she painted was the girl I saw the day before. Full of emotions, I became so filled with hope that I would get to see her someday soon. I did get to see her, but it wasn’t exactly what I imagined it to be. 

Is that her? I think so! Same location, same jacket, same silhouette. Yet, when I approached her, although I was filled with love for her, my heart sank a little because it wasn’t the face I was expecting to see. Only a little disappointed I still believed that I would see “my girl” soon, I could feel it. After handing over a gift bag and talking to her for a few minutes, my team said goodbye and headed back to the car to continue working. Something was still feeling “off” in my heart, I was so sure that it was her. All night a heaviness sat on my chest, I prayed it away and felt spontaneous joy throughout the night because I feel so honoured being able to do what we get to do. But then as we drove on I started to understand why the heaviness lingered as we got ready for our last loop around the track. It felt like my mind slowed down and what I was seeing was in slow motion. A small plaid figure caught the corner of my eye and as my head slowly began to turn, someone in the backseat said, “look, there’s a girl.” 

Young. She is too young. Why is she out here? This can’t be happening. What is going on? 

Slowly pacing alone in a streetlamp spotlight is a girl; a child. I can’t imagine that she is older than 14 years old. Fourteen. The minivan pulls over and I brace myself to get out of my seat, she’s down the road a little and all I am thinking is that I can’t fall apart right now, later yes, but not right now. As the team arranges themselves and jumps out of the van, the pounding in my heart grows faster and faster as I feel it break for this girl. I start to walk away from the van and quickly turn around and say “make sure you can still see us,” to my teammate that is staying back. He nods and says of course. In my mind I said this not because I felt unsafe but because I was so afraid that I wouldn’t be able to do what I am called to do. Every step forward I was ready to fall apart, but my love for her kept me standing upward and pushed me forward. We approached with a wave and a smile and handed her a gift bag. Fear was streaked all over her little body, but with tension in her voice she murmured hello and we started to talk. I could feel her relax a little but she was clearly still on guard while standing there with us. I could feel eyes on my back- my team watching out and observing. Yet, I could also feel the eyes that were on her back, judging and in control while hiding in the shadows. I wanted to stay with her longer, so much longer, but the anxiety she was holding onto was telling me we had to go. She didn’t have much to say, but she didn’t need to, I just needed her to know that she is seen and loved. Saying goodnight and wishing us well she turns away and returns to her spotlight. It took everything in me to approach her but now it took everything in me to make myself walk away. Slow motion takes over my body again as I turn and walk away, her plaid dress and long black curls slowly fade from my sight as I go back to the van. The eyes that were watching her then watched me walk away and burned anger and heartache into the back of my jacket, claiming a silent victory as I left a piece of my heart behind. Eventually I fall apart, tears silently stream down my face and into my hands as we leave the track behind and start the drive home. 

Days go by and I have to give myself big chunks of time to process all the thoughts and feelings that are continuously streaming through my head like a broken record. 

Who hurt you? Are you okay? Were you able to sleep in a proper bed after we left? Did I hurt you more? Are you safe? Do you feel loved? Did I fail you? Will I see you again?

On repeat, various versions of these thoughts have been racing through my mind, leaving me feeling both heartbroken and hopeful because I am determined to see her again. I kept asking myself why this one hurt more than the other girls I have encountered. Her innocence and age are a major reason why, but I couldn’t figure out the deeper reason, but there had to be one. Then it hit me as I walked by my desk where a copy of that painting is pinned to it. I did see her. That was the young girl from months ago, she is the girl in the painting, I saw her that night and didn’t even fully realize it until now! My heart was already with her and for her before I approached her, no wonder I was both falling apart and having to force myself to walk away. The love that God has for her is so deep within me that I don’t even know how I would be able to keep doing what I do without thinking, praying for and loving her, even if I don’t ever see her again. I’ve learned that a huge part of ministry and doing life with God is that if you genuinely ask Him to break your heart for what breaks His, He will absolutely wreck your life. Which in my opinion is an honour. He wrecked my life with love for this young girl and I don’t even know if I will ever get to see her again, but because of it I get to pray for her daily, look out for her every time I am on her track and trust that He has her. If there were an easy fix I don’t think I would have ever asked God to break my heart for what breaks His, which I would regret, deeply. Although the pain can be unbearable, the love outweighs it all. Someone needs to fight for her because she deserves to know what love really is; I will do it again and again if it means she’ll slowly start to understand.