our boulevard

she sat on my brown couch and told me everything was just fine. really. and all i said was, "it's not ok. and it's ok to feel like it's not ok." that's all it took.

the tears poured down.

she's sixteen. she goes to church by herself. she's skipping school. she's hanging out with older guys. she's praying. she's mad. she's sad. and she's alone a lot of the time.

her parents work odd hours and so the regular 9-5 day doesn't exist at her house - it hasn't for a long time. i'm not sure the details of the inner workings of her family. do we really know any other family's intimate moments, other than our own? i doubt it. and so i go on what her face is telling me - what her tears are saying - what her hands covering her face and nervously playing with her hair tell me.

and i hear her tell me that her mom has left. she left three children. i hurt so desperately bad for her. and i want to join in the anger against her mom, but i know that's not the answer. but still, i have this humanly desire to rush over to her mother's new cozy apartment - free, apparently, from motherly parental duties - and shake sense back into her. remind her that it was those three children that she carried in her womb. that she has been given charge over their lives and, i'm sorry, but you do not GET the convenience of up and leaving them. and you do not get the convenience of leaving your husband just because you're tired of him.

i speculate all of this in my mind as we talk. but it's no good. i haven't a clue of the hurt that went on in that house. but i tell this sweet girl the truth. marriage can be hard. and there are things that happened between her parents over the last twenty years that she'll never know about or understand. and that just as wrong as one may be, she must work desperately hard to try to forgive them now. or hate will build. it will. she nods her head in understanding.

she's wise for such young years.

and she's beautiful. and simple and complex and talented and smart. and i'm so torn. i want to sit on the couch next to her and hug her and tell her that everything will be alright. but i don't. she tells me that she wants her dad to be happy - she gets sick when her mom mentions another man's name. and so i tell her the truth: your parents stood before God and made a covenant, a promise, to never forsake one another. they became one. and that's why it's so confusing when they're apart - to name them individually - it's foreign because they aren't two anymore. they're one. they should be together and, as children, it's so hard to feel them apart. you are sensitive to the breaking of that covenant. she nods - her eyes show complete understanding.

she's so wise for such young years.

and she's beautiful. and simple and complex and talented and smart. and i'm so torn. and i sit in awe. i feel like i'm staring at a sixteen year old version of me - minus the rebellion. i didn't rebel or have that desire. but i was mad and hurt and felt so alone and confused and helpless. and i didn't know where to turn. and i went to church by myself. but i didn't talk to anyone who was a christian. so i sat in my anger.

and i look at this sweet girl sitting across from me on my brown couch and i think - how can i help, Lord? let me help. let me show her the love of a Godly woman. please give me and todd the chance to show their family the love of Jesus. oh PLEASE God, let us show them your hands and feet. let us show them how you love them...how their family can be redeemed, restored, reconciled.

i offer my love to her. i tell her that i will be praying. and i tell her that i do really know her pain. and the tears just stream down her face. a kindrid spirit, perhaps? uggh. how heartbreaking to know that through my own hurt, i'm able to relate to this child. it seems so sad to me that any of us might experience this kind of pain. but God delights in those who suffer and are restored - those that will go on and share his love with his children. he loves it when we help a sister run the race - when we carry one another's burdens - when we provide in his name - when we stand next to one another and spur each other on so that we might persevere in the name of the one who is Love.

so here i sit, blogging. and i know that it's by no mistake that God placed me in this house at this very moment. i can rain prayer over my friend's home. i can see her come and go during the day and night. my home is a safe refuge for her to run to if she needs it. and my life is a living testimony that through a broken family can come a redeemed life. 38For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,^[m] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (romans 8)

i am certain that nothing can separate us from the love of God.

but HOW WILL WE FEEL GOD'S LOVE if we feel that ALL that represents love has fallen apart?

HOW?

to love your neighbor as yourself.

love. love is selfless. it's kind. it's giving. love never fails.

and i sit there staring at the sweet life sitting across from me on that brown couch. and i think - she must have been precious the day she was born. a sweet little bundle of hope. and she still is. and God sees her as such. he knew the day, the time, the place where she would arrive. and he knew that this moment would come - that her heart would break because of the actions of someone else. consequence of sin. and he knew that my blue eyes would stare into her green and yearn to love her. he knew that my heart would have been hardened and then softened - for this moment.

and she is beautiful. and young. and complex. and a teenager. and her spirit can either grow towards God or away. and i can help foster that or ignore it. imagine if i choose to not love my neighbor. i'd have to literally turn my face away from Jesus.

and she is talented. and creative. and smart. and so wise for her young years. and i pray - Lord, let me show her the love i was desperate for at sixteen. please, Lord, let me show her You.

and so i ask for prayers. please pray for children of divorce. pray for their souls. pray for their spirits to not be broken and their joy not robbed. it is NO ONE's right to steal their joy. let's fight together against the robber of joy and let's show our neighbors what Love is.

that God is LOVE.

God's peace to you, friends.