Things were a bit off tonight as the StrongSoft came to me.
To tell of texting and boys and prayers and the gospel.
How my heart went right up into my throat.
And I felt my foot wanting so to go down.
Strong words.
The way I was that girl once too...
Minus the Savior.
Minus the saving power of the cross, and certainly without her gift of wisdom.
She leaves, and we are still tangled.
I lay on my bed in the still, deep quiet.
Talking to this beloved Jesus, and feeling my heart crack some.
Until she comes bounding back to bounce on the bed.
To say...
"Let's pray together, Mom."
And how our coming to Jesus.
TOGETHER.
Binds fear and hurt all up into grace.
Lovely.
A gift, this one.
Such a gift.
We talk long and cry hard.
Sharing some of the secrets we have both kept.
Holding each other.
With hands both scarred like our Father's.
Both of us...
Loving the thorns that have pricked us and made us.
Precious thorns, forgive us for despising you.
When you pierced all the way to the bone.
Seems the Master was at work all along.
My daughter and I cling to each other for life and for love.
As she says,
"Mom, I hope HE shakes us all."
What can I do but shake my head?
At her and all her fiery life?
Burning every last thread of safety net around me,
Bernadette
Oh! I love so many lines in this poem. Your word choice here is exceptional. Your daughter sounds like a true God seeker and I think you are both blessed to have each other. May you keep fighting for those strong bonds with her, even in these stretching days of growing up.
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