Broken

Finley spent at least an hour preparing her hair-do for crazy hair night at Awana. It looked adorable; two big knots on either side of her head with 15 sparkly pipe cleaners tucked into the rubber-bands. She bounded into club that night with so much pride and enthusiasm. The director announced that they would be having a fashion show, so Finley turned to me and proudly displayed her awkward but adorable poses that she was prepared to perform on the catwalk. We laughed, we got excited, and the girls got in line.

Fin waited until the very end to make her appearance; I guess for the dramatic affect of being last. She decided not to walk out on stage as every other girl had done, but to come out to the audience first. The director wasn't aware of this, so while Fin was strutting toward the catwalk, she glanced around the back of the stage and noticed that no other girls were waiting. Then, announced that it was time for another group of girls to go backstage. I watched Finley dissolve into a puddle of tears, and everything was halted. The director apologized for not seeing her and encouraged her to go again, but the moment was lost. My sweet bubbly and confident girl turned into a solemn and angry mess. She turned to me and said, "this was a very bad day mama." My heart felt sad that she couldn't jump up and try again, or shake off her frustration, but I knew that something had broken in her that moment. As we drove home that night and she sat in the passenger seat, I asked her, "did you feel that you were invisible?" She stared down at her lap and solemnly nodded her head with deep sadness. I reached out and grabbed her hand and told her that I understood, that sometimes I feel invisible, and it really does hurt.

I laid down to bed that night wishing that things had gone differently, and I couldn't help but reflect on my own attitude that month. I had also struggled with the feeling of being invisible. I let lies seep in about my worth as though it is determined on the scales of accomplishment and popularity. I lost lmy footing a little. I forgot about the unconditional love of the Father and was grasping for something more tangible. If I had to be honest, I spent most of January and February in a funk, and I was looking to unhealthy answers to pull me out. My heart was a mess, just like that little girl sitting in my passenger seat. I saw myself in her, and for the first time, I experienced it through God's eyes. I knew how precious she was to me, and I wanted so badly for her to see that...that she didn't have to be anyone different or prove any darn thing. She was just loved...the same way that God loves us.

A few days after I had these reflections and prayed that I could trust in God's love for me, I was approached by a woman at the Y. I knew this woman, but not very well. She was a leader in the Bible study that I attend, but I had only talked to her once. She said that God had spoken to her about me and she handed me a card with my name on it. It was a beautiful letter, with verses pulled from different spots in the Bible, written to me from Jesus...and, at the end, it read, "For this, I gave My life, to commune and abide in you, My daughter, made to rule and reign and make Me known. I love you and I love you." I tear up every time I read that because I really believe that God meant those words for me, and for all of His children. Our hearts were made for this, to yearn for His love and to feel fulfilled by it...but, sometimes we have to be reminded. Sometimes, the world and its pressures make us feel invisible. God's love can feel distant and intangible. In those moments, I hope to find this card or my favorite Bible verse about God being the strength of my heart and my portion forever, because I know that HE SEES me. And I may think that I need more than that, but the truth is that I really don't.