Praise Him for the Pain

As I sit here and try to begin to convey the weight that is on my heart right now, my heartbeat is in my throat and tears blur my vision. 

My words inevitably fail. 

We left Dunamis two days ago. We said goodbye to those eleven faces. Those eleven angels that have blessed my life for the past 3 weeks. In reflecting upon my time at Dunamis, I am filled with nothing but utter gratefulness that God gave me the ability to love that deeply. A love so deep I didn’t know it was possible. 

Allow me to introduce an angel, Vanessa.

Vanessa is beautiful daughter of the King, she is fifteen years old. Her and her younger sister, Angela, who is eight,  came to Dunamis from unspeakable trauma. Her step father was selling her to older men to rape and abuse her. 

She has been mute since being at Dunamis. When I met her, she did not smile, she did not talk, she did not participate in any games. She would sit out in the corner, starring off into the distance with numb eyes. 

As soon as I met Vanessa, my heart cried out for her. 

Throughout the weeks at Dunamis, I’ve been blessed to see that unspeakable glow in her eyes return slowly, and it’s been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced. 

It started with little games we would play with her younger sister. Angela would run around giggling and we would be silly, Vanessa would look at her little sister laughing and the corners of her mouth would turn upward promisingly. 

Eventually, Vanessa would join in in the little games. She would tap me on the shoulder and look away, I would then make a dramatic gesture pretending to figure out who it could possibly be. She would cover her mouth and giggle and her eyes crinkled in laughter. 

This dynamic of little gestures and jokes continued, and I found myself becoming incredibly close to Vanessa. 

The day before we left, we were able to surprise the girls and take them to the El Refugio campus to play around for a day. Sunday, the 14th of March, the best day of my life. 

Vanessa put her arm around me and we ran around El Refugio all day, looking at the fish in the ponds, the guinea pigs and playing soccer. 

There was a moment where Vanessa and I were passing the soccer ball back and forth and she showed me a trick where you put your left foot forward and kick with your right foot behind it. I attempted the trick and as I kicked my right foot forward, it took out my left one and I embarrassingly fell straight on my butt. 

Immediately we both burst out in laughter. As I lifted my head from the grass to see Vanessa laughing. It hit me, I realized this was the first time I had seen her teeth. The first time the laughter got the best of her and her smile was showing visibly. I think that seeing her smile for the first time was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced.

I think about that moment often.  I don’t know what I did to deserve the gift of witnessing the special moment of God’s tangible redemption. 

After a long day, we piled into the bus and Vanessa held my hand and rested her head on my shoulder all the way back. As I sat there on that bus, tears welled in my eyes as I recognized the depth of love that I felt for that girl. An incomprehensible and deep love. 

We left on Monday the 15th of March. It was abrupt and tear filled. We spent the morning with the girls and when we got up to hug our final goodbyes, our last embraces, the girls began to cry just as much as us. I looked over at Vanessa, her eyes met mine shyly and I saw the tears stream down her face. 

That sight was the hardest thing I’ve had to see. 

As I walked out of the house for the last time, I felt my heart physically shatter into a million pieces. 

 I write about this kind of deep pain because it is real and authentic and it is important. As I sobbed and cried out to God, He reminded of His truth and His love. 

He told me that it is a incredible gift to be able to experience this kind of pain because it is a product of the deep love that He blessed me with experiencing. 

He told me that He is greater than her trials and she is in His hands, and those hands of His are infinitely more loving and caring than anything I could give her. 

He reminded me to praise Him for creating her. To praise Him that all I see is Him when I think about her. Praise Him for that pain. Praise Him for creating us for an intimacy and a love that deeper than our understanding. Praising Him he ordained this divine meeting between Vanessa and I. Praise Him that not matter how short our friendship was, no matter how many words were exchanged in our friendship, it was unspeakably beautiful. 

I praise Him for the tears, for it reflects His glory. Thank you Jesus for allowing to experience wholeness, not perfection. Thank you Jesus for saving and redeeming all of us. Thank you for Jesus that no matter where I am, your love never leaves me. 

I praise Him for the pain.