A cry for help? Physical pain to cover the emotional torment
that plagues a young girl’s life? Whatever the excuse, however it may be labeled;
the act itself must be taken seriously. Fear. Desolation. No sense of value. My
poor daughter’s world has been turned upside down. Her biggest cheerleader, her
constant affirmation, the man who made her feel like the princess she is, is
gone—ripped violently from her life in a manner too horrible for words. She
watched for hours as he struggled against the agonizing pain—as her mother
tried to piece together the back of her daddy’s head in an attempt to stop some
of the bleeding. She tried to look into eyes that bulged from his face, closed
from the swelling. The mouth that had spoken words of encouragement and kissed
her lovingly on the forehead coughed up blood and moaned in agony. “How long?”
she cried, exasperated, terrified as we waited for help to come. Fear of plunging
down the granite slope plagued her with every move her daddy made. “Please
STOP!” And the hours lingered. An eternity was lived within a day.
Angry? A constant state of anger, misery, distress, and
dread. Yes, God is real, but she questions His choices. How can good come from
this? She sees the people who have been helped, but she really doesn’t care. In
all reality, she would let them suffer the wrath of God and be forever lost for
one more day with her daddy. There is no room for compassion in the midst of
her anguish. Not now. And she is surrounded by people who seem to be healing
and managing the grief for which she cannot find resolution. Alone in a world
where she has no power or peace.
I know she will survive this. In time the trauma of that day
will fade into a distant memory with not as much pain associated with it. Those
memories will not cut so deeply, wounding the soul with every remembrance. If
she can learn to lean on her Heavenly Father, she will come to know the peace
she seeks so desperately. She will learn to trust the world again. She will
know where her help comes from. Someday the void in her heart will grow smaller
as God fills it with the love of a husband and children of her own. Someday
only joy will accompany the memories of her devoted daddy.
Someday….we are just not there yet.
