My Sweet Baby Girl,
I'm sorry that you were so scared last night. I wish I could make you believe that I will not let anything bad happen to you. If I could only make you see how fiercely I love you and the places inside of me that are so ferociously protective of you, then maybe you could understand that I am in control of these situations you are so afraid of. Why do you always ask what I would do if you got hurt or what I would do if someone tried to take you or would I cry if you died? The uncertainty and vulnerability you feel in my presence breaks my heart and makes me feel frustrated that I cannot communicate my deepest desire to keep you safe from all harm. I know it is hard to understand when you have seen things happen on my watch that you can only comprehend as bad. You have lost your innocence in regard to pain and death.
In futility, I tried to reason with you that just because we were downstairs and you couldn't see us, did not mean that we would let something bad happen to you. You lack the ability to trust the words, "I will not let anything bad happen to you."
That kind of reminds me of when I told you that God will protect us and only lets things happen to us that are for our own good, and you asked, "How can I believe in that if I can't see him?" I told you that that was what faith was: believing in someone or something that you can't see. But your words still haunt me.
They haunt me because I can hear myself in you. I know that somewhere in the corners of my soul I question God and his ability to protect me and keep me safe because I have seen some things happen on his watch that I cannot completely understand.
I can only imagine his pain and frustration as he watches me struggle with whether I am secure in his love. Deep inside of me, in the dark of the night, when I'm all alone, there are questions that I try to ignore and push away. Am I really going to be okay? Have I done enough to earn your love and approval? What is going to happen to me if I die? What if I've gotten it all wrong and I'm in for a big shocker?
I know all the theological answers to these questions, but there is still this place outside of my intellect that, if I'm honest with myself, does exist.
It is in these moments that I experience God. He does not always remove the problem, but he does put his arm around me and help me struggle through the pain, confusion, and fear. In my weakness, he is made strong, and his grace is sufficient for me.
Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.