No more wishing

Dear Tracy,

I used to wish I could go back in time, to when you were very small, to when he started violating your six-year-old body for the first time. I used to wish I could wrap my arms around you, and create a wall of numbness so that you couldn’t feel a thing. But I don’t wish that anymore, because I know that God was there instead, wrapping you in innocence.

I used to wish I could go back in time, to when you were in elementary school— long sleeves covering the bruises even on the hottest of days—and help you think of mean things to say to the kids who bullied you for your appearance. But I don’t wish that anymore, because I see that God was there instead, holding you in His unconditional love.

I used to wish I could go back in time—to when you were in middle school, and this same man called you stupid, fat, and worthless—so that I could pummel him with my fists when he raised his hand to you. But I don’t wish that anymore, because I’m convinced that God was there instead, arming you with inner strength and confidence.

I used to wish I could go back in time—to when you were in high school, when you were afraid of other boys—so that I could tell you to just go ahead and trust people already! But I don’t wish that anymore, because I know that God was there instead, giving you patience and wisdom.

I used to wish I could go back in time—to when you were in college, when you were finally furious at this man and confronted him—so that I could be there to see his shame, his guilt, his confusion—and his profoundly deep sorrow at what he had done. But I don’t wish that anymore, because I’m so sure that God was there instead, giving you forgiveness.

I used to wish I could go back in time—to when you were a grown woman, when people became angry on your behalf and demanded this man’s crimes be avenged— so that I could rally alongside them and be your advocate. But I don’t wish that anymore, because I know that God was there instead, giving you peace.

I used to wish I could go back in time so I could make things right. But now I see that the way to make things right isn’t to go back: It’s to move forward, turning to God to see your real identity, your true safety and wholeness.

I used to ask why, if God loved you so much, how He could still allow you to be hurt. But now I see things from God’s perspective, and I realize that you never were touched. Your innocence was never fouled. Your spirit and strength—all that God has ever given you—was never really harmed.

I used to wish, but now I don’t have to. That’s the power of prayer. All those memories, all those scars—they’re gone now. Gone, because you’ve felt the absolute, cleansing, purifying power of Love that sets you free. Like the Biblical story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego and their trial by fire: Not even the smell of smoke (the past) lingered on them, or on you.

It’s Love that showed me that you could be free, that you are free. No more wishing, Tracy. You’re whole—and you always have been.

Love,
Tracy