She beckoned from the confines of her basement bedroom.
“Colee, will you tuck me in?”
This girl, no longer a young child, not yet an adult.
“First songs. Then prayers. And will you do “X marks the spot”?”
It was reminiscent of younger years.
Years when I lived with her family,
helping mold the image of God in her and her siblings.
I always tucked her in.
She preferred me to her parents;
mainly, I suspect, because she loved to sing.
And, who better to manipulate with requests of singing than me.
Singing and “X-marks” spot helped calm her before bed.
It was a daily routine.
Routine that prepared her for a rest of sweet hopes and dreams.
Last Saturday, she requested the familiarity of her bed-time routine from years past.
I snuggled beside her to sing and rub her back.
“At the Cross”,
“Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee,
“As The Deer”,
“More precious than Silver”…
and she relaxed in the remembrance of sweet choruses.
Song,
after
song,
After,
song,
until tears dampened her pillow and her body began to heave.
She cried as she spoke.
“Colee, please pray for my injured leg. I want to compete, so badly.
If it doesn’t heal, I can’t compete and all my practice will be wasted.”
The soft, prayer murmurs of a young girl,
whispered in the safety of night’s curtain.
An injured gymnast who longs to compete.
A girl experiencing physical growing pains.
So, I pray.
And, after I pray.
I remind her:
“Jesus sees you.
He hears you.
He knows you.
And, no matter how He answers,
He is always good.”
God growing a girl’s faith through a sport injury.
It seems silly actually.
Silly,
to think He cares about the broken-heartedness of a child’s simple desire
and yet,
it’s His mercy on display.
His merciful, lovingkindness to teach a girl about life and His love,
through that which she can handle.
As I lay beside her,
knowing the extra weight of my own broken-hearted burdens
and desires,
tears slip down my face as
I hear my voice echo:
“Jesus sees you.
He hears you.
He knows you.
And, no matter how He answers,
He is always good.”
– Thank you, Nicole Merchant, for your beautiful words