Today has been such a good day I’m almost afraid to write about it for fear of jinxing the joy. Today marked one week that Half Pint and I have been together. The kid she was today was almost like a different kid than the one who came into my care just a week ago. Is it possible that we’ve made this much improvement this quickly? Granted, she’s not sitting at the table with her hands neatly pressed in her lap using proper English and perfect manners, but she is moving forward in so many ways. Today when we were on our way to school she started hissing like a snake, long dragged out “sssssss” sound. She continued this racket until we were almost in the building and when I asked her what in the world she was doing she said, “I’m just practicing my “s” so I can say “yes ma’am” instead of “yeah.” When I came home after work she was such a compliant child. She chatted like crazy telling me about her day and her good behavior and what she learned. We took a walk and she walked beside me instead of running on ahead. She stayed on the side where I taught her to. She apologized willingly, admitted her mistakes, obeyed immediately, laughed, smiled, and gave lots of hugs. I caught a glimpse of the healthy child I know she will one day be.
I think maybe it all started with yesterday. We had a moment, a good moment, when I literally felt the walls between us fall down. There had been something that was holding us both back and yesterday we talked about things so real and deep and true that a lot of barriers between us disappeared. I’m the type of person that avoids conflict and discomfort as much as possible. I grew up with the mentality “if you don’t talk about it, it doesn’t exist”. The first couple times I caught Lydia writing about things a little girl should not write about, I ignored it. I think I was still at that point that I wasn’t ready to deal with the fact that something that awful could happen to a child. I was afraid of asking the questions that I knew I would have to face if I really thought about what she was saying. Why would God let this happen? How can she ever grow up a normal kid? What type of a woman can ever get over those nightmares? These were the things I would have to answer if I acknowledged the fact that she had a problem. But then something last night happened.
I was doing dishes and walked into the living room where she had covered my magnetic drawing board with one word. One complicated three letter word. I did not want to talk about this now, but I knew it was the perfect opportunity. We both had time. We were both focused. So we had the talk that I have been dreading since the day I met her. She told me her story in her own words; what happened to her and how she felt about everything. Nothing breaks a heart like hearing an 8 year old say, “I just wish I could start my life all over. Before this all I had to worry about was school and friends. Now this is all I can think about.” We had a talk about things deeper than I do with many people my own age: the struggle to control our thoughts, the battle between Satan and God for our mind, how we can struggle with loving God/hating God, how to fill our heads with positive things, and the incredible idea that we CAN start our lives over with Christ. Lydia is incredibly smart and she really does understand spiritual things like this. She is hungry to hear truth and to let that Truth set her free.
After we talked I felt better but then she said something that, at first, really crushed me. “Miss Shelly, I don’t like you.” Really, Lydia? After this amazing conversation, you don’t like me? “Miss Shelly, I don’t love you either.” Another blow. “Miss Shelly, I overly, overly, overly love you.” Finally. She got up and gave me a huge bear hug and that hug said more than her words could’ve. All Lydia wanted was for me to share her pain, for me to know what happened, and for me to tell her I understand. You could’ve heard Satan scream at that moment. He is trying so desperately hard to win her over and I am fighting as hard as I can to keep her. I am so glad I know the One who is strong enough to destroy the evil one.
Today I get to rejoice in this moments. I’m going to cling to them. Hold on to them for dear life. Most days have felt like we’re running full speed ahead in the wrong direction; today we got two steps forward. Soon it will be two more steps. And more and more and more until finally we are so far away we cannot even recognize who we were at the beginning. Two more steps, baby girl. We can do this!
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