I have not been blogging for some days; I’m not sure I’m going to blog for a while. I don’t have the heart to. A few days ago, I disappointed God and I disappointed myself.
On a ‘Missions for Monday‘ post I wrote about a girl named Lola (not her real name but go here to read about her). A few days ago I heard that she was leaving. I went to her and tried to convince her to stay. But she was adamant that she had to leave; someone she trusted had betrayed her trust. I begged her and told her not to give up just because one person hurt her, but she kept sobbing and sobbing. I held her and cried in pain as she sobbed her heart out. I cried because I knew I was a coward.
I could have helped her. I knew exactly what she was going through and all I had to do was tell her my story. She was overcome with guilt and shame and if I had let her know that I had been precisely where she stood, once, maybe it would have lessened her pain and made her feel better. But I did not. I could not. I was not willing to go back and prod a wound that had taken so long to heal. I just couldn’t. I knew that I should have, not just for her but also for me…being able to help her would have brought some sense to all I went through. I would have known that even if I could not honestly have said it was worth it, it would have made a little sense. But I kept mute. I just held her and wept and wept; then I prayed with her and wept some more. It was a heart-breaking experience.
I wish I had the courage to tell her. But it was a story that would have hurt other people if she chose to be indescreet about it. That does not in any way justify my cowardice. I’m not sure I will be blogging for a while.