This morning I found myself wandering down the hallway, still in my robe, carrying my coffee, refusing to admit the day had started.. when I overheard my daughter being interviewed for "Queens of Nashville".... a movement highlighting girls/women who have proven what it means to overcome, rise, and take their place as queen... of their own life.
I stood hidden from view of course... and listened as she carefully recounted her history, as she shared stories from her life, and answered questions about her past and her future... as I listened, she was asked:
"In a world where young girls strive for perfection, tell us about a flaw that you have accepted about yourself."
She sat quietly for a moment... and then held up her hand and showed her scar to the camera.
"These. My scars. I have so many...all over my body... and for a long time I thought they were ugly and I hated looking at them because they were reminders of my really bad days... like this one on my hand... I remember my hand being forced down into boiling water... how scared I was... a day I will never forget. But I'm learning... that my scars tell stories... not to remind me of my past, but to remind me of how strong I am.... If I can get through those days... when I was just a child... I can get through anything that comes my way... I'm ready for the world... I am ready for what comes... because I'm a proven survivor."
The only fitting word is...
This girl isn't only a freakin miracle... she is a child who never got to be a child and she hasn't skipped a beat.
How can this be possible.... she was that statistic we all hear about... the kid who won't transition into an adoptive family because her past is too traumatic... too old to adopt... too many issues...the kid who would likely have R.A.D.... the kid who will never learn to love or accept who she is...
HOW ON EARTH has she not only defied statistics but embraced her messy, confused scarred little self... how has she gained the courage at such a young age to speak out and call out the dark space... how has she been able to look at the scars across her body and love them... I mean WHO THE CRAP DOES THAT AT 15!!!!!?????
This girl... isn't just a fighter... she is a graceful heart... one I learn from every single day.
Is she perfect.... no.
Neither am I.
Is she scared some days... yep.
So am I.
But she proves to me with every breath she takes that she was created to spread hope... destined to rise and be a beacon for little girls who feel broken, abused, for the traded and the assaulted... for the thrown away and the forgotten.... for the ones who feel they are unworthy of love... she WILL be the proof they need to understand they too are able to rise... they too are able to defy the odds... they too will be the author of their stories... the man who stole their innocence no longer holds the pen... the mother who left them no longer controls their story line...
This is her life... and SHE decides what happens next.
What will her next 15 years look like? what stories will she tell?
Jesus THANK YOU for taking the wheel on this one... and thank you for choosing me...for giving me a front row seat.... a gift I will never feel I deserved... but one I accept with a WHOLE heart... just please Lord... don't let me screw this up!! (says every mother raising children)....