|We Were Not Alone|
Her nerves are stretched to where she feels she can stand this no more. She slams on the brakes of the car in the parking lot and sits staring at nothing as the motor idles. Her mind seems to have gone on hold. No thoughts, no feelings, no nothing. It’s been too much.
Finally, shaking her head as though to awaken from a deep sleep, she turns the ignition off and takes a long agonizingly deep breath and steps out of the car.
Walking into the building she walks to the elevator and rises to the third floor. Slowly she opens a door and enters into a plush waiting room with a fake palm tree in one corner, enticing comfortable chairs, and carpet so thick she feels she could curl up on it like a cosy warm bed.
She signs the sheet on the clipboard and takes a seat. Glancing at the stack of magazines she ignores a Man sitting across the room. Then her name is called.
For thirty minutes she sits with her hands folded tightly in her lap and tells her counsellor about a horrifying memory of her childhood. Tears stream, she wants to scream but takes a deep breath and fights to maintain control.
He’s sympathetic and asks several questions. She replies as best she can. One question arises that throws her into a tizzy. “Where was Jesus when this happened?”
She bolts out of the chair and paces.
The Doctor waits.
Unbeknownst to her, the Man has entered the room.
She stomps across the room and with fists tightly clenched at her sides, she stares out the window at the parking lot below. Tears stream down her face. She fights to subdue her anger.
“Where was Jesus?” the Doctor asks again and she spins around facing him. “I don’t know!” she almost screams.
She runs her hands through her hair in a frantic, hopeless and frustrated gesture, and plops down on the couch. She closes her eyes trying to fight the flood of tears that want to rush down her cheeks, and before the Doctor can say anything a vision appears before her.
The vision is so clear of Jesus on His knees with tears streaming down His face and begging His Father to stop what is happening to this child. His pain is so evident and His agony is even greater than the child’s that He’s praying for, her!
On the couch, she is shaking violently and sobbing. Now she knows the answer.
Luke 22:42 – “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.”
Even Jesus asked His Father to not let this happen, and yet He suffered greatly, even unto death. Children do not have the physical or emotional ability to stop the abuse that is being inflicted upon them; be it emotional, physical, or sexual. They cry out in many instances to deaf ears and blind eyes begging for it to stop.
The hurt goes so deep it becomes anger and many times that anger is directed straight at God. “Why didn’t You stop it!?” “He did nothing!” is how many deals with those issues. As in the story above, the great I Am was there. He can’t reach down and stop the torment being inflicted, but He is praying fervently for the child. He knows our suffering. He knows our tears, His heart is being ripped out at seeing what we are going through, then and now. He is with us through it all.
We can blame God, or we can reach out to Him to help us overcome all that was done. If the suffering is continuing through your thoughts and memories, reach out to Christ. Invite Him into your suffering. He’s waiting to take you in His arms and heal your heart.