I Just Know How To Smile

Her red head was leaned over the sink as I massaged sweet smelling shampoo to the depths of the thick, copper strands.  The water ran, even as our youngest ran thru the kitchen singing "Water Waster, Water Waster" and my hands worked to bring the moisturized suds to her itchy, dry scalp.

She giggled as I cracked a joke and I expressed my joy at hearing her happy again, after what had been such a hard week for her tender heart. 
She has no one to "hang with" at lunch, as all her sisters and friends are on a different lunch period... 
She got a solo part in choir that she doesn't really want because a group of kids voted on the beauty in her voice even as she prayed they wouldn't... 
She lost some very important homework pages... 
Her sweet heart was heavy and mine attempted to cover it with warmth as we mothers do.  I knew I was doing it all right when I praised her positive spirit until she spoke words that stopped mine in chilled recollection of teenaged dark places: "Eh.  Sometimes I just know how to smile."

Simple words and yet so full because I also know how to smile... 
how to pretend I am not hurting... 
how to think that my hurts are too much of a burden or an irritant to others so just don't let them show... 
how to stuff the weight of my hurts so far down into my heart that I can almost believe that they are no longer there...


Our conversation went further...and she allowed a long pause in her "strength mask" as we shared a moment of vulnerability while I made every attempt to keep shock and hurt from appearing in my own voice as I responded to her.   Her head wrapped up in a towel to keep the drips from her nightshirt, I hugged her...and I prayed softly that my arms could reach far enough into her to cover her hurting heart.  She gave me her famous smile and walked from the kitchen.

All was well with the world...

Then this morning, as I laid in bed, God replayed the conversation in my mind. As I heard it all again, I discovered a section of my heart that aches so very much from the voices that my sweet baby is choosing to listen to within her mind.  I wept on my pillow as I imagined His arms around me and I recommitted her into His care even as I told Him that it must be my fault...
that I must have done something wrong along the way for her to think as she does...
for her to hurt as she is.

My sweet heavenly Father led me to His Word where He fed my heart...

"Can any of the worthless, foreign gods send us rain?

Does it fall from the sky by itself?

No, You are the One, O Lord our God.

Only You can do such things,

so we will wait for You to help us."

Jeremiah 14:22

...and as I read I could hear His own thoughts about me, echoing out of His heart and into mine: "If only she could see herself the way I see her, she would never have reason to doubt who she is made to be."

Listening to His Truth today while looking up as always...