It finally got so hard at home that we started talking – seriously talking and planning – about residential treatment for my daughter. She’s only 8 years old. But she has been through more than anyone I know in her young life, both from her foster care history and because of her bipolar.
My heart is in a hundred pieces for her much of the time. And so, I’m sharing something a little different today. Something from the depths of my heart on behalf of my daughter… a prayer for my precious, grieving girl.
How long will you carry those words?
The ones that hurt you
pile high your shame
shrink your heart?
How long will you hold them?
Words that smudge your beauty
crush your courage
eclipse life’s light in your eyes?
Will you let go?
Give them to One
The One who knows true you?
Who counts precious each hair,
each tear tumbling down.
His words give life
Will you let go of death-words?
Drop them to dissolve in dust
With the one who’s lies cheat your joy?
Believe His words instead.
“For I know the thoughts I think towards you, says the Lord, Thoughts to prosper and not harm you. To give you a future and a hope.”
-Laurie