“I don’t understand why Papa had to go… I tried to tell Mama he would never do anything like that to hurt me.”
The tiny six year-old before me looked up and met my gaze with sadness. Her brilliant blue eyes, usually large with wonder and excitement, held a dark hue of sorrow as the questions emerged from her heart. She turned and looked back at her horse, and started brushing again.
“Do you miss your dad?” I ask quietly, allowing space for her emotion to hang in the air.
“You mean Papa? Well, I just don’t know when I’ll see him again. And Mark – my dad,” (I could tell she was still confused about her mom’s remarriage shortly after a horrific divorce,) “Well, he needs to go to parent school to learn how to be a good dad and discipline us right. I keep trying to tell him but he won’t listen.”
I choked back a laugh and realized she fully believed that “parent school” was a very real place her new dad needed to attend for some parenting lessons.
She then bewailed to me how her toys would sometimes get taken away or she would get in trouble for things she felt weren’t her fault. And underneath it all, my heart broke for the deep confusion she harbored as she tried to put the puzzle pieces of her broken little life together. All I could do for her was enter that moment with her and show her she was loved.
It feels helpless not to be able to rescue children from hard circumstances or, as in this precious child’s case, to bring clarity to the confusion. I don’t have any answers. Then God reminded me that He is the one pursuing her heart and today, my job was just to love her right where she is.
After a few laps around the arena on a fuzzy Elska, our little Icelandic horse, we made our way into the barn to grab a s’more before the end of our session. We sat together and my little friend, mouth full of marshmallow and chocolate, wanted to say a prayer for a friend who was sick and unable to play that day:
“Dear Jesus, thank you for Mary*… and thank you for… wait. I guess I don’t know how to do this very well…” She looks up at me again, then explains, “But I’m really good at praying for dinner and thanking God for stuff.”
I laugh and tell her she was doing a fantastic job. I prayed for Mary first to help her get started and then she tried again:
“Dear God, thank you for Mary and all the adventures we had. Please help her not be sick and get better. And protect her so she doesn’t get sicker… and… Amen.”
My heart melted. Even though this sweet child was facing her own trauma and doubts, God was creating a warrior within that little six year-old heart to have a depth of compassion and empathy for her friends. Already He was healing her heart wounds and I had to trust His faithfulness to complete that work in her.
Please pray for this little child and for healing for their entire family.
*NOTE: “Mary” isn’t the actual name of her friend and used only to protect her privacy.
Riding Wild Hope 