The Girl

3

The girl walked. She walked and walked. And every now and again she would stop, and talk with people, or talk and experience things with people. And some of those stops, she stayed for a while, and built relationships with people. And she built relationships with boys and men, time and time again, and each time things were beautiful and magical and surreal until a certain point. And at that certain point things would go sour, and her cracks would begin in her heart.

They would start small, hairline fractures, that were almost unnoticeable other than the dull ache somewhere between her spine and ribs. Then, those fractures would start to grow, to spiderweb like a windshield after a rock hit it, until the glass, the heart, shattered. And these boys, they walked away seemingly unscathed. And the girl would lie broken in the mud, hoping she could die.

But each time, no matter how far she had fallen, no matter how much of her skin was coated with mud and no matter how many scratches she had, bleeding without stopping, He was there to pick her up, and wash her off, and carry her to safer ground. Sometimes, she would cry out to him as she fell, and he would catch her and carry her. Others, she didn't even see Him there until she was clean and safe and bandaged. And in her safe place, in her confusion, she saw Him there, waiting to hold her hand and walk with her for as long as she would let Him.

Now, it's been years. And now, she's been walking, and falling, and walking, and falling for so long that it feels like a circle. And yet, each time, He is there to hold her, to carry her, to save her, to help her. Now, finally, she is beginning to see. In the beginning, now, she goes to Him before she goes to a boy. Now, she struggles to say, "Lord, I want You first. I want You most. I want You in my heart, and in my life." She struggles to say this, because while He is perfect and beautiful and always always there, He isn't tangible. And the boys, the men, they are. But she still struggles, she reaches, she tries to reach upward, she tries to keep her eyes on the one who loves her more than any man ever can. And each day, it feels like climbing uphill without shoes. And each day, she reaches a point when she is allowed to rest and He says, "See, daughter. See how things can be with us? And I'm sorry you have to make this climb. And I'm sorry you have to hurt. But I see how this is shaping you. And I see how you are growing. And I love you. And I am here, walking with you. Each step, each twisted ankle, each broken bone, I feel with you. But when you reach the top of this mountain, when you reach the pinnacle, think of how much stronger you will be."

The girl kept walking, kept climbing, kept reaching and looking toward the peak. And in those moments when she had to rest, when she rested without that calm, in those moments when she screamed and cried to Him, begging for help, for relief, He was there. He gave her the tools she needed to patch her hurts until she reached the next plateau. He gave her the courage to keep going, even when things were so dark she couldn't see. He gave her the strength to put one foot in front of the other no matter how much it hurt.

And when she wanted to give up, no matter how painful things were, she would remember the prize at the end. She would remember why she was climbing. Not for a boy. Not for a man. Not for a tangible, fleeting goal. But because His love was being poured into her, and she wanted more than anything to pour that love back.