I know a girl. She exists in a place so far from where I am. I haven’t seen her in a while and yet it is in these days that she pops back into my memory. I have known her many years, but she has never met me.
I came across her picture the other day and stared at her face wondering about the days and the nights her soul endured. It is the goings on of those days and those nights that escapes me.
Some days I wish I could just reach out and hug her just to help her see that there is a life beyond what she knows. There is more. There is good. There is beauty. There is strength. But there is also great pain. Great sorrow. Great destitution. And yet even in the midst of all the pain there is a deep overwhelming peace that surpasses all. All the days and the nights of the conflict and struggle. All the feelings of being halfway settled in a place wholly wrong. All the realizations of what those wrong turns meant for now and the future. The peace is all here. The hope overwhelms.
And that is every little thing I wish a hug could tell her because I know it will be a long time before she learns to pick herself up and rise from the ground again and again and again. It’s still a struggle these days, but she will know. Just like I know there is a woman on the other side of me whom I have not yet met, but will encounter soon. She knows the life transformed, the flower’s bloom. I felt her warm embrace just a moment ago and heard her say, “Remember that girl, don’t forget those days. Set her free. Give her your grace.”
Somehow she knows forgiveness for that scattered girl. It flows from a place that still mystifies me.