Hurtfilled Tears

HurtFILLED tears fell down her face.  Knees to her chest and hugged close as she sobbed.  The teen years haven’t changed that much over the coarse of 25 years since I participated.

I tried to comfort.  To support.  To guide her through such hurtfilled tears.

I remember, thinking, “Mom, you don’t understand.”  I knew my experience was so much more world ending than my own mother’s.  My feelings hurt and scorched from the fuel thrown on an already heated discussion.  My mother sat and listened.  She patted me on the hand and repeated, “I know, honey.”  I had watched a few “Happy Days” episodes and knew the wonder years of her youth.  She couldn’t have possibly understood.

Time has turned the table.  Now it is I trying to think of those magical soothing words.  I babbled and stumbled over a few attempts.  It was harder than I thought.  Being misunderstood can be so hard to smooth out.  I could see another crack in her own brokenness form.  Then it was time to tuck her in for the night and pray for a better tomorrow.

My mother never prayed with me.  Never, to my knowledge, prayed over me.  If anyone could iron this mess out, it would have to be God.  I placed my hand on her and began.  I prayed for guidance, for peace, comfort, and no frogs.  I could hear her chuckle when I said, “Please Lord, protect her from the frogs.  Those wart covered species that are full of broken promises.”

Her expression asked, “Do you really pray for my very own prince?”  I smiled and quickly added, “He has to be one that will love You, Lord, and much as my baby girl.”  I told her that I prayed that every night to help her weed out the toads.

Thank You, Jesus, she smiled.

It’s nice knowing someone is praying for you.  There’s comfort to be drawn from that.  You may never have the right words to say.  Lord, knows I don’t. But prayer with someone helps tremendously.  My mother never outwardly prayed for me.  She wasn’t one that knew to do that.  But someone had to pray away all those frogs in my past.  I know because of my dearest Mark.

Being judged is a tough one to swallow.  It hurts.  But when life hurts, God heals.  I truly know that.  I want my baby girl to know that….. understand that and to count on that.  Life with toads would have been so much easier to live through, if I had only known that.

God bless…….

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