When I saw you, I loved you.

The ability to cry is a sign of health, because it means

your body & soul agree on something, & that what your

soul is feeling, your body is responding to.

SHAUNA NIEQUIST, BITTERSWEET

& the girl cried. (applause)
    It felt like that climax moment when someone trips over the root pummeling through the sidewalk, or the terrible moment your grandmother loses her footing over the dog, suddenly lunging at an uncontrollable speed straight towards your hundred & ten pound frame. The moment there is an audible gasp that seems to hit the room the way the wave hits a crowd at a football game. The closer you are to people reacting, the more your reaction takes shape. Then, the grand finale comes when your grandmother pops up off the ground, unharmed & 'A' okay, (you don't matter as much...thank God for the cushion softening her blow) & the wave hits the room a second time- in the form of rolling laughter. The inhale-- deep pause-- & release.

I felt the release.
    I never cry. I have grown to hate the oceans tearing at my eyes connected to my heart's momentary reactions to time's sudden splashes. That is not okay with me. I need to know ahead of time exactly what is going to happen & how I am going to feel when so that I can place the helmet on my head before those grenades hit. I don't like the surprise emotions that sneak up on me like it's their job. I try my best to part with my emotions. & all of the sudden, it's feeling so wrong.
    It wasn't until I met with a heaven sent friend with the gift of sweet honesty that I realized just how distorted my mind had been to the truth. I covered the truth from my own eyes. The conversation unraveled something like this.

"I have control issues." -Me

 

[I gab about things that I have been through, struggles that resurface everyday]

 

"You smile everytime you say something that is painful.

Is that your way of holding feelings back?" -Her

    Ouch. Because nobody had ever told me this. Because it was true. Nobody asked. My life had become a don't ask don't tell policy. I won't ask you about those deep, personal struggles I know you are fighting with if you don't ask me why my lips are curved up but my eyes refuse to wear the mask. We only talk about the pretty, shiny things. Things that glitter. We completely ignore the things that matter, worried it's none of our business, afraid to cross the line. Nobody wants to see a friend break down into the ugly cry in the Dunkin Donuts parking lot.
    Intimacy takes place when vulnerability takes off it's happy mask, the land where true feelings flow freely. That night in the Dunkin Donuts parking lot was full of great wisdom & loving honesty. & if this was a book, the moral of the story would be crying is okay, emotions are okay, & vulnerability is okay. We cannot grow intimate with our Father by only going to him with happy faces. This is a habit I've grown to unconsciously partake in. Even when I am completely beside myself, feeling hopeless & helpless, I go to God with my smiling face when I am talking to him. I don't get too emotional because I don't want to come off weak or fake or dramatic. I am driving down the road praying, where all the floodgates could be opened, & I am my own worse critic. Intimacy occurs where vulnerability surfaces.

Vulnerable. Gulp.
    So in the parking lot that night, I made a promise to practice crying. & for some that might seem silly. Just let it rip! But for me it is a challenge. My heart has to beat my mind to my eyes. Where my mind sucks it all in, playing it cool, my heart plays John Mayer, say what you need to say. So I am practicing, & my sweet friend didn't walk away, leaving my struggles in the dust. The next morning she messaged me the link to this song, in which I read the title & thought of course! The words caressed my flooding eyes. So if you need some caressing, dear girl, here's your chocolate.

Grab your tissues & click here!

LINK NOT WORKING? GO HERE:  http://youtu.be/T4MbnlSMDoE 

    & for a few more self induced tears. Please consider inducing some of your own by visiting Compassion International & look at the faces with names in places all over the world. Poverty has many, many faces. Children have been waiting for over a year for someone like you to step up & love. Show them they are loved. Show them they are not forgotten.

Ana Vilma Hernandez Perez
    Such a little girl with such a big name. I'm writing this because I wanted to tell you when I saw you, I loved you. I was searching for a child to sponsor, & I have been praying about it, asking God to make sparks fly & send an arrow down from heaven. In a way, picking you out like I was in a candy shop felt wrong. Dehumanizing, almost. But I am a woman of meaning, heart & thought into every single detail. I wanted to know the child I chose, God chose for me. & you my dear, are it.
    When I saw your picture, & begun reading about you, I wept. One thing you need to know about me is that I don't cry. I am the strong one with the strong shoulders for all the weak ones. & I wept for you. & to be honest, I don't know what quite did it. All I know is I was overwhelmed with compassion for you, & my heart wouldn't step back. So I decided to leap forward with faith that God will provide every month I commit to this moment.
    I am so excited to send my first letter to you! I have already been at the store exploring the stationary. I couldn't decide what to go with because I decided what I think is cute is probably not going to be the same thing your petite seven year old self finds beautiful. But then again, what's a piece of paper compared to the words?
    I cannot wait to hear from you. To see your tiny writing, scrawled with hesitance & sheer perfection. I cannot wait to learn your favorite color, your favorite activities, your deepest loves. I cannot wait for your aging photographs, & your birthdays. We have a long road ahead of us, sweet love. Most importantly, I hope to someday hold your little hands in mine. To meet you face to face. To put a voice to the words & pictures & heart. You are loved.