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CHILD HAUNTS MY HEART
The sweet three-year-old boy reached
up silently through his tears for a comforting hug. Something within me knew that he was crying
because of his home situation – a situation I knew nothing about, nor had the
authority to remedy. All I could do was
to convey through touch that I cared.
Would that be enough to carry him through whatever grief he was
carrying? Would the memory of my empathy
and motherly hug help him to heal and trust as he grew up?
The little boy’s older brother was
adopted by a loving Christian couple on the reserve. My heart was screaming, “Why can’t you adopt
his brother, my darling little Playschool child, too?” People can do only so much.
I never saw the little boy
again. Over the years, I have never
stopped praying for him. When I shared
the story with someone, she reminded me, in her practical way, that the child
for whom I was grieving and praying did not exist any more, since it was now
thirty years later. No, but what kind of
person did he become? What kind of life
did he lead? I pray for healing in his
life, for loving, Godly, positive parent figures to help him become the adult
he was meant to be, for protection from harm, from addictions, from bitterness,
from a criminal lifestyle, as these can result from hurts in early
childhood. I pray he will find his best
friend Jesus, who loves little children, and is close to the brokenhearted. I pray he will find happiness.
I still picture that little three-year-old
boy when I pray, perhaps because he represents all the brokenhearted children
on the planet, whether they lack food and shelter, or are abused, or simply
lack love. Many, many children haunt my
heart. Sometimes we can be Jesus’ hands and feet to help them, sometimes His
heart.
The Lord is close to the
brokenhearted…(Psalm 34:18 NIV)
Let the little children come to me…(Matthew
19:14)
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