My New Hero

Yesterday I had a minor medical procedure done and got to talking about Brenna with the doctor. One of the nurses made a comment that helped me to articulate some things in my heart in response. She said that she "hopes Brenna is grateful one day for what we've done for her." I have to admit I wanted to yell at her and tell her that was ridiculous--we don't have children for their gratitude and if we do, we have serious problems. But, by the grace of God, I feel like I was able to respond in step with the Spirit. I simply told her that I wasn't looking for her gratitude but for her to be my daughter. And then I told her that I was the grateful one and hoped that my gratitude would be sustained through all the heartaches of parenting!

Here's what poured out of my heart--that I want everyone to know. I'm so grateful to be Brenna's mom. Brenna is one of the bravest, strongest people I know. Think about it--what kind of person would you be today if you had been abandoned by someone you loved at your weakest and most vulnerable? What if you had then been left alone in a strange hospital immediately after that, your cries for help ignored again and again? What if then, you had been taken to a place where there were too many people and not enough love, food, safety, or protection to go around, left alone in your bed for hours upon hours, your needs not met? What if you were then sick again and again, wasting away, weaker and weaker, with no special person to comfort you or bring you soup? What if you were then, after surviving a terrible week in the hospital with horrible tests never explained to you, taken away from the one, yes not so great, but only known place to you, and given to some funny looking strangers who talked in ways you couldn't understand? We try to minimize what children from neglectful and abusive backgrounds understand, go through, remember--but we would never do that to adults. Children in fact, experience these things much more profoundly because they cannot reason or use logic; they overwhelmingly feel the hurt and live it out, untranslated, through their senses. Research shows this again and again...

Seriously--if most of us had been through the things my daughter has been through in her short life--we would be bitter, solemn, resentful, or we would give up. We certainly wouldn't be easily open to love or laughter or play. Yet, my brave, strong daughter is doing just that. She's opening her heart to us--the greatest gift I could ever receive from her. She's learning to play, she's letting go of the things she used to surivive, learning to speak the language of family. When I think about all the broken children in the world and in our country, I am saddened and yet amazed! How many of you were broken like her and yet you are open to love? How many of you are still open to life, laughter, and hope? Children can become irreversibly hurt and never heal, but so many make it and not only survive but thrive...what a miracle!

The way I see it is that because we are created in God's image--we have GREAT capacity for connection and deep relationship with others. I see that part of God's imaged attacked and damaged every day by what I read about children every day--and by what I see my daughter struggling with. Yet greater is He who is in us than he who is in the world. God's light shines more brightly in the darkness. He is working to redeem that broken child in all of us. He wants us all to be working on our hang-ups, our strongholds, our sins caused by hurts done to us at any age. So, my daughter reminds me everyday to give up my way, my coping skills, my perspective, and choose God's. Terrifying at first, but over time, I see it's the only way to keep my heart open.

So, as I told my doctor yesterday--my daughter is my new hero. All persons that have survived horror in their childhoods are my heros! My prayer is that I will dare to completely open my heart to God as I teach my daughter to open her heart to us and ultimately Him.