Her eyes are still haunting me....

I can't shake this bad feeling I have this morning.  Last night, S and I went to go see his cousin Meghan play in the Alabama State High School Basketball Tournament at the BJCC in Birmingham.  We had a great time watching her play and hanging out with his family.

But something happened in the bathroom that disturbed me so much that I could barely sleep last night.

When I took Diana to the bathroom to change her, I witnessed something that made my stomach turn.  I was just finishing up and packing everything back up in her diaper bag when I head three loud smacks and then, a small child beginning to wail.

I looked up just in time to see an older, heavy set woman dragging a little girl, who couldn't have been more than 2 years old, by her arm into the restroom.  The woman then forcefully guided the little girl into one of the stalls and said loudly, "You get in there and go!"  The poor little child was terrified and complied, crying all the while.

I hadn't realized I was staring until the woman turned and made eye contact with me.  We stared at each other for at least 15 seconds.  It was almost as if she were daring me to say something to her.

I am ashamed to say that I didn't.  I broke eye contact first and quickly packed up the rest of Diana's belongings and scurried out of the bathroom, all the while thinking, "I should say something.  I should say something.  That poor little girl.  I should say something." 

Instead, I scurried off to go back to our seats, clutching Diana to my chest, and silently praying for that small girl's well being.  Ultimately, I chose not to say anything for two reasons:  I didn't want her to come after me and my daughter, and I didn't want to make her more angry and make things worse for that small child once I wasn't around.

The little girl's face is still haunting me.  Last night, as I was trying to go to sleep, I couldn't stop hearing those smacks or seeing the anguish in those big brown eyes.  After laying there sleepless for an hour, I finally drifted off.

This morning, I am saying a prayer for that child, and all the children in similar circumstances:  "God, please look kindly on those children who have been denied the gift of a safe and happy childhood. Protect them from abuse and neglect and let them find comfort in Your love and protection. Help all of us to show sympathy and compassion to troubled children whose words and actions test patience and understanding. Let these children see the world as the beautiful place You created. Help them find the courage to overcome their fears so they may learn to trust and love. Grant those who have young lives entrusted in their care Your wisdom and kindness so they may provide the kind of love all children need to grow and mature. Amen.”  (From http://davestuff.wordpress.com/2009/10/26/prayer-for-abused-and-neglected-children/) 

Will you send up a prayer today, as well?  I am sure she can use it. 

I used to hate praying...but now....

I used to hate praying. I used to hate the idea of praying. I used to think it was stupid to pray, that people that prayed were stupid, that anyone that had ever prayed was stupid.

And then, I tried it. Really tried it. In a book I read a lot, there's a quote that says "almost the only scoffers at prayer are those who never tried it enough," and for me, it's turned out to be true.

As it turns out, I don't have to be all that fancy or even know exactly what the heck I am praying to. The thing that counts more than anything is the ACT of prayer - taking the time to pause and ask for help, guidance, comfort and strength. Just as important is to offer up thanks for the many things in my life that have nothing to do with my having earned them, but instead serve as evidence of grace and providence.

When things are going well, it's easy to pray - but when things are NOT good, or when I am afraid of what God's answer will be to my prayers (i.e. "No" or "Not yet!" or "I have something else in store for you, little one..."), I flat out refuse to do it, even though I KNOW it will make things easier, if not the circumstances themselves, at least my attitude towards them. Praying is not stupid. I only used to think so because I was scared that I would have to admit that there were things out of my control and that I was not the end-all, be-all when it came to making the decisions about how life would go. The true irony is that I had nothing to be scared of. Another line from that amazing book I quoted earlier is: "When we look back, we realize that the things which came to us when we put ourselves in God's hands were better than anything we could have planned."

So, the relief comes from the act of praying, and then, the faith that not only will things be alright, they will be better that I could have planned....because I prayed.

So, scoffers can scoff. I honestly feel badly for people that flat out refuse to try. I only hope they don't hold out as long as I did. We don't have to suffer in the storm - we can be calmed, if only we ask and keep asking.