When they throw rocks


It isn’t always hand holding. It isn’t always loving touches and big hugs. You do not always get the helpful spirits and the warm greetings. Sometimes kids that know you will call you Blanc in front of their friends. Sometimes kids you hang out with everyday will start asking you for money again. Sometimes your stuff gets stolen and you have to chase tiny children all through Jubilee barefoot and still sopping wet because you saw them stealing from the school while you were in the shower. Sometimes the school gets busted into seemingly weekly and major stuff like computers get stolen. Sometimes the kids whom you love the most and hold closest to your heart will throw rocks at you. and if you have allowed them that close to your heart it matters not whether the rock actually reached you, the action alone reaches the soul and leaves a bruise. Through it all though the thought isn’t “do you know how much I have given up to be here?” There is not a mentality of wanting them to recognize the sacrifices we have made for them. Instead it is simply an agonizing pain of “don’t you know how much I love you?” For the belief I hold is that if they knew, if they truly knew, they wouldn’t do these things that hurt us so significantly. They wouldn’t treat us as ever forgiving, unlimited resources, use ‘em and leave ‘em blancs. They would want to be around us not for what we can do for them but because they want to be near us. If only they would know our love and see how much we care. If they could just rest in that knowledge….

and suddenly the thought strikes me that maybe that is how God feels with me. Maybe he isn’t up there holding his sacrifice on the cross over my head like ‘well I did that so now you should do this or feel really guilty forever.’ Maybe instead he is agonizingly whispering, ‘if you only knew how much I love you…if you only knew then you wouldn’t do these things that hurt me so significantly. You would want to make me happy. If you could only rest in the knowledge of my deep love for you. If only you knew…’

and I don’t know. I don’t trust. I throw rocks when he turns around because I want his attention and love and I don’t understand what he is doing. So I get angry. and I do things that hurt him not realizing that they actually hurt him. Not realizing that it doesn’t matter that the rock doesn’t come close to hitting him, it does hurt. Because what I do matters to him. Not in a ‘he needs me’ kind of way but because he sincerely loves me.

If we only knew…


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