I remember the first time I met her. She cried, held tight by invisible chains of trauma, exploitation, fear, and unspeakable loss. Life pushed down so hard on her that the sheer weight of it made it hard for her take a deep breath.
Everyday was a battle. The tears and the anger. Committment to a process felt impossible, and even organizing the time and transportation was a challenge. The emotional bandwidth to enroll kids in school, to put one foot in front of the other and even to show up was almost too heavy.
How is she doing it? How is she here?
Questions rang in my head as she pushed forward and waded right through the thickest part of suffering day after day. Week after week. Month after month. Year after year.
And then one day she started to smile, and pray, and grow. She came to therapy and Bible study. She showed up for workshops, she came to activities. She kept her kids in school, she paid her bills, she grew a tiny business for herself, and she found some confidence.
The flood of tears slowed down and the process of healing sped up.
There is perseverance from her and from us. There is a resilience deep down, a longing for a truer kind of freedom, and a more eternal cure. There is a reaching for comfort and belonging. A striving for community, and home. Not just for her, but for me, and for all of us that accompany her in the struggle.
She has continued through the process and soon she will graduate. Just recently she stood in front of applause and moved her name into that last column showing she has stayed in the race, she has stuck to the path, she has never given up.
Neither have we, but most important, neither has He.
If you stop by at lunchtime, you might see her making tortillas in the kitchen, preparing lunch to serve to the others. Smiling, laughing, and hugging me as I walk by.
Why did I ever doubt?
Because I wonder if there really is power. I wonder if healing still happens, if the process works, it any of it can be trusted. She guards her heart, and I do too. We are scared because it’s hard and long.
But then He shows up, and miracles happen. The tears stop, the chains fall off, and that’s when freedom breaks through.
