Today it was my turn….
Em sat, defiant, with her wounded heart exposed. We’re all in love with this feisty, courageous, budding soul. We almost always know what she’s thinking and feeling and she’s not one to merely trifle with. That time, when all control was lost, leaving her orphaned and scarred, sits like a weight on her eight-year-old brain trumping other thoughts. She hates being told what to do (which is her current perception on why adults exist), because she never wants to give over control again.
Her older brother sat on the same bench, but not too close.
“What’s bothering you Em?” I asked.
“He’s going to beat me,” she said casting a sideways glance and lifting her eyebrows towards her brother.
“Mmmmm,” I nodded. “Why?”
“During devotions, I forgot what the Fruit of the Spirit was and I answered, ‘A mango.’ I had to leave the room because I really thought it was a mango, and now he wants to beat me.”
I smiled, saving my laugh for later, knowing this was her cover story for a much larger incident.
“Dan?” I turned my attention towards the boy, “How do you feel when Em is disrupting devotions and disobeying the aunties?”
He didn’t answer right away. He sat quietly thinking, weighing his words.
“Very sad... It makes me sad when she’s not obeying,” he said, looking down at his hands. Then, lifting his eyes to meet mine, he pleaded, “Why can’t she just obey?”
“Dan, tell me this. Do you love Em when she’s not obeying?”
He again paused. Then, using his hands to articulate and raising his voice to emphasize his words, he lifted his head, looked into my eyes, and spoke slowly and deliberately with the wisdom of a sage, “I love Em all the time. I love her when she’s obeying. And I love her when she’s not obeying. I always love her. I have always loved her.” Then. dropping his eyes, “But, it makes me sad when she’s not obeying.”
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as truth washed over her. She looked out the window and wiped her wet cheeks. Her tension dissolved.
After some time, I softly said, “Hey Em. I know you heard Dan, but I’m going to say it again. Your brother loves you no matter what you do. No. Matter. What. When you’re following instructions, he loves you. When you’re not listening, he loves you. And you know what?” She looked at me. “I do too. I love you all the time, whether you’re obeying or not, I love you. So does Auntie G and Auntie L and Uncle... Em, you are a very loved girl.”
She crawled into my lap and laid her head on my chest and I rocked her like a baby. Today it was my turn…
Behind the Story
I tell this story because similar situations happen around Oasis homes every day. I’m not the only one who has held this girl while she has wept. Our beautiful, talented, joyful children at Oasis have deep wounds which bring out fear, anger, mistrust, and defiance when they are triggered.
At The Well, we’ve piloted a trauma informed program this year in hopes we make greater strides toward healing in the children’s lives. All of us are in training to learn to improve care for children who have experienced trauma. We’ve been focusing on creating a safe environment where each child can find space to process their pain. Every child is seeing a counselor and every child is in group therapy.
Pray for us as we walk together with these precious ones through some very dark waters. Please pray for our staff, teachers, counselors, and social workers for wisdom in each encounter with a child. Please pray children use the tools they’re learning to journey towards healing. And please pray each child ultimately finds restoration.
We hold to this statement by Josh Shipp, “Every child is one caring adult away from being a success story.”
