The Permanent Past

The past is an immovable object.

Set in stone. Permanent. Unchangeable.

We all know this, but it doesn't make life any easier. And it doesn't stop us from wishing we could hit rewind.

Regret can suffocate us to the point that we refuse to take a breath in our today. Although NOW is flexible, changeable, in motion - we can still refuse to function in it. The quicksand of the past becomes concrete around our feet of flesh.

Last night I went to bed late because I could not silence my mind and the memory of the night at prison. I held hands with my husband and we prayed together. I was wrecked. I kept hearing her say; "I don't know how to go on from here. I don't know how to do 45 more years in this place. I never had a childhood. My life was literally stolen from me!!! How do I go on in these walls? I just want to get outta this place and live!"

It was one of those nights that made me want to run. To hide my head under the covers or at the very least return to my parked car and drive to a comfortable restaurant in my comfortable freedom. We never like looking at human suffering. It leaves us feeling undone. Helpless. Vulnerable.

She was sitting in a chair. I was kneeling at her feet with my hands on her knees. Looking directly into her swollen eyes. She glared at me in anger. Rage, really. She wanted more from me. More attention. More time. I have 65 inmates to lead. Individual time is a luxury I don't have very often. I was already making the choir upset because I followed her into the hall. I took minutes away from the group and they never take kindly to those moments. I could hear them growing restless, but I could not walk away from her. I love her like she is my very own.

She snarled her words at me.

"You talk about love. Yet, you don't always give it. I NEED you. I NEED to talk. I'm dying in here. I just want you to go away to leave me alone!!! I don't care about anything right now. Ok? How do you like that???"

I began to cry. Not just tear up. No, I began to bawl. Heaving crying came up inside me. Desperation was gripping me. I so want to help her. To fix it. To undo it. And I can't. We're talking about a past that can't be rewritten. Only a miracle could grant her freedom from this institution.

I looked at her and spoke slowly. Intently.

"I can't change it. No matter how I wish I could, honey. I can't. BUT I love you and I will not abandon you. Do you hear me??? I'm not leaving you."

A dam broke in her heart because she reached out for me. She curled her body up and put her head on my chest. She embraced me so slowly like a little child and she cried. And the girl in need of a mother had a mother in me. And I felt all the pain and wonder of parenthood. All the heartbreak that goes with consequences of dreadful decisions. ONE decision can truly alter a lifetime. And where words fail - there were arms of LOVE. Where promises ring hollow - there was the fierce determination to not allow her to push me away. Where God is still rejected by her - He embraced Her through me. Touching her profound brokenness. She just doesn't recognize Him yet.

Ministry isn't for pansies.

It is painfully messy. Draining. Overwhelming.

BUT His strength is made perfect in my (constant, consistent, continuous) weakness!!!!! I don't have to face this alone. God doesn't raise up slick, perfect people. He makes good use of messes like me. He shines brilliantly through broken glass! And let me just say - that my past has equipped me for my future - so even the evil plans of the enemy turn into opportunities for God's glory to be revealed!

No matter how much I long to, I can't change the past for any of my girls. But I can LOVE in the NOW and point their faces to the HOPE-FILLED future that Christ longs to lead them into!