Rest.

Her piercing screams jolted my sleep.

2:21 am...

For the third night in a row, I muddled through the dark of the house to her room where she thrashed in her sleep, screaming and kicking her feet against the walls.

Yet her eyes were closed tightly, looking inwardly at the prison of her dream, replaying the tales that haunt her, the puzzles pieces that somehow brought her to my home.

I took her fifty-pound frame and cradled her as I did with my sons' on their first nights home from the hospital.

I rocked her as she wailed against my chest, resisting rest with all her strength, unable to escape the terrors of her memories.

I held her more tightly, more deeply, and I whispered Psalm 23 over her soul...

The Lord is your shepherd, Sweet Girl. You shall not want. 

He makes you lie down in green pastures.

Shhhh.

He leads you beside the still waters. He restores your soul.

The kicking began to subside.

He leads you in paths of righteousness for His name sake.

Even though you walk right now through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, you will not fear.

Jesus is with you. He loves you. I love you.

His rod and His staff comfort you.

Sweet Girl, He prepares a table before you in the presence of your enemies.

He anoints your head with oil.

You cup will run over, and Precious One, goodness and mercy will follow you, by His grace, all the days of your life, and you will dwell in the House of our Savior forever.

And just like that, a six-year-old baby slept in peace against my chest.

I studied her eyes, her lashes, her fingers clasped in her lap.

I felt my shirt wet with her tears.

I thought of one who surely rocked her before.

The one of whom she dreamt.

And for the third night in a row, I wept silently with a precious one against my chest.

It's been just over a month since she's been here.

Our first week of nights was spent just like this; our days were spent in the Principal's office.

Her heart knew no rest. No peace. No security. Nothing of the things she most unknowingly craved and needed.

And in some moment between the sleepless nights and dreaded daily meetings, I suddenly realized I could not point this new little one to rest if it was something I did not know or understand.

So I have been quiet in order to rest, that I might point my children, specifically ChaCha, to new rest.

Not sleep and not even necessarily a ceasing of activity, but I have feasted on the One who said, Come to me when you are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

I've taken Him at his word these last weeks, and my soul has found rest and healing in God alone, and as a result, I've been able to invite the ones who depend on me most to true rest.

And now she sleeps.

And we haven't seen the principal in a week.

In repentance and rest is your salvation; 

in quietness and trust is your strength.

~ Isaiah 30:15

Because Jesus is Worthy ~