Wednesday, August 22, 2012

How A Little Girl Might Grieve

The Spunky Girl has an imaginary friend.

Her name is Angie.

From the back seat of a quiet car, that Spunky Girl breaks the silence and says it all too matter-of-factly,

"Angie died today."

My Spunky Girl, she knows about David. She saw her Mama crying for nearly a week and so the Cowboy very graciously and with much discretion, told the three older treasures what had happened to their friend's Papa.  She knows that he's at home with Jesus and she knows a little bit about how he got there.

So I asked her some questions.

"Oh ya? What happened to Angie? How'd she die."

"She was living across the ocean with her husband and she died in the middle of war. Some mean man who didn't know Jesus killed her."

"Does that make you feel scared? I mean, Angie dying like that?"

"No Mom. Angie's ok. She's with Jesus now."

"Did her husband die too?"


"Oh, so her husband must be really sad."

"Ya, he's sad. But it's okay to cry Mom."

"You're right, it is okay to cry when somebody dies."

"Do you feel mad at the mean man who didn't know Jesus?"

"Let's talk about something else Mom, Angie needs to rest."

I wanted to say, "Oh, so now Angie's alive again?"

But I didn't.

 I just wnated to affirm her before she lost interest in our conversation...
"Okay honey, but if you or Angie ever wanna talk about what happened to her across the ocean, you can always talk with your Mama."

Then she started chatting with Hal about ponies.

I know she doesn't grasp the depth of such loss. But as we drove the rest of the way home I felt grateful that she could tell me her thoughts in her own little way.

The Dancing Girl has her own way of letting it all out too.

She tells us her heart as she prays for Heather at the dinner table.

Last night she prayed that God would show us how to love Heather best. And at the end of her prayer she asked that God might bring her friends a new Papa.

I'm thankful for these little windows into her thoughts.

I pray that as these treasures grow, our home will be a safe place for their hearts... a place where they can  freely process the things that their little minds are trying to understand... a place where they know that their Mama and Papa care about all the little details of their thoughts, concerns & joys.

May our home be a consistent safe-haven for their souls.

Cuz even Spunky girls need to process sometimes. :)