The Little Girl I Used to Be

She walked past me last night. I could see it in her eyes. The little girl I used to be.

Secrets. Her eyes held secrets. Things she could admit to no one, least of all herself.



I wept. Not outwardly, but on the inside. I wept as I wondered if she knew what made her numb, walking in this haze. I wept as I wondered if one day the pain would sneak up on her, like a thief, stealing who she was… stealing who she was becoming.

I wondered if she knew that the moment she acknowledged that pain for the first time, it would almost kill her. I wondered if she pushed it down, day after day, like a beach ball lurching from the water toward the sky.

And I prayed. I prayed for the moment she would own her pain. I prayed that it would not own her, but that she would be owned by the One whose wounds took all her shame.

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You are not alone. If you have been abused, tell someone. If anyone can get healing, I am proof that God is greater than our greatest nightmares.

Don’t go at this alone.

For more information, contact me at www.bekahhamrickmartin.com.
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Photo source: Microsoft Clip Art