Working with Crystal and Indigo Children Continued...
There was a time, I was torn between crying and smiling. As my daughter matured, the scenes gave way from midnight terrors to overstuffed chairs, where she would fling Kleenexes upward and outward.
During one of these episodes, I passed behind the chair on my way to the couch patting the cushion next to me, signaling for my daughter to come over. With both Arms crossed and bottom lip in full-gear, she plopped her head firmly in my lap, tossing her legs over the edge.
“I know you hate me for what I said about God and God is probably going to hate me forever too!”
I was beginning to think the whole ice cream detour had been more for me than her, as I began running through all the rational things I could say. Of course I panicked and said something like,
“God couldn’t hate anyone, especially you and understands how all of us hurt and hurts along with us.”
“Well, big WHOOP mom!!! So what! God feels sad, just like the little babies on the playground at school. They don’t do anything either. Everybody else has to do things for them! We’re the ones that need help and nothing’s happening! My pillows have big wet spots in the middle from crying and trying to talk to God. God doesn’t care! God doesn’t answer! Why don’t I play on the swings like everyone else! Nothing bothers them. God made me backwards and left me like a river rat!”
(Ouch!) Like I said, different approach needed here.
I remember having similar disgruntlements when I was younger, with explanations beginning and ending with because or having to pass through the gates of Sunday school or cross-referenced with the bible, let alone having sensitivities which we didn’t really address anyway.
Knowing also, it can be easier these days to see and hear the worst in things or take to heart what we don’t personally agree with out of ego, I recognized she was here, now, this moment, confiding a struggle at such an early age, teetering on defense and a pessimistic outlook in life.
She did not want to be placated or biblically remedied. She wanted her hurt to be seen and understood, without getting swallowed up in the meantime.
Looking up from my lap, she flopped over on her elbows.
“I said you’re right.”
I took her by the hand, to the garden outside.
“God did make all of this and if God can make all of this why not stop all the meanness, greed and selfishness in the world and save the good-guys who are trying to help the beauty and simple things in life.”
“God knows every second of every moment. That Garden out there? It grows through God's creativity. You are a part of God and have and can use what is given to you to help the garden or let it die. What do you think would happen if we sat on our behinds and just stared out the window? Do you think, pumpkins, cucumbers, herbs, peppers and tomatoes would crawl up through the ground on their own?”
“It's up to us. God makes everything and every-one, free. Plants and people have a lot in common. Plants move by seasons; people move by what they think they want and how they feel. Plants feel their surroundings, people do too. Did you know sometimes you can see a rose growing in the dead of winter?"
"It's so beautiful it can make you go, ‘WOW!’ Well, sometimes you can see a person, trying extra hard to do the right thing when it’s not so easy. It may not make a ton of sense to them or anyone else around them. It may not make them the happiest while they try hard or give them the greatest riches to win and be famous, but it makes them just as beautiful as the rose in winter. God needs these people like the rose in the winter for other people to see.”
“So, I’m a rose in winter!”
Do you know what gift God found so special it was shared with people and nature?”
“ Resilience. Each year when the garden grows, it shows resilience. Each moment a person lives, they have that same kind of opportunity.
“Do you know why I think that you think you hate God?”
“I think that you don’t hate God. I think you hate being away from God, just like the rest of us and the pain that you feel deep inside is the same pain that makes some people do bad things.
“Do you think God will forgive me for what I said?”
“Actually, I think God was counting on you to ask about what you did, so you could go on to do what roses do best!”