Proud Mama

Today I took my kiddo with me to celebrate the first birthday of a local rescue home that takes in girls who are victims of human trafficking. It was great to celebrate what is happening through the staff and volunteers who are working with girls who have had the unspeakable done to them.

I had explained to El Kiddo that these girls were horribly abused and people really hurt them (I did not explain any more deeply - he got enough to know why I would care). He was indignant that any parent would allow that to happen and that anyone would do that to someone in the first place. At the celebration there was a box where you could write encouragement to the girls. His said, "I hope you get well soon." While I know he doesn't understand what they need to heal from, he understands that healing is needed.

I was thankful he chose to write anything. I have a passionate conviction about helping others and I express that a lot, but I never tell him he has to agree or that he has to do anything. I just involve him in some of what I do and I live it out in front of him. When he took a card to write a note, it was wholly his own doing. I was so proud he cared enough to write something to hurting girls he'd probably never meet.

During the celebration they had a survivor of trafficking speak. As she told her story, I felt my heart aching for her. A beautiful Indian girl, she said, "I thought if I was just White things wouldn't be this way. I thought I would be loved and worth something." After she told her story - and her incredible story of healing in a safe house - she sat down. The celebration closed and El Kiddo grabbed me and said, "Mom, that girl said she didn't feel like she could be loved because of the color of her skin! That is so wrong! God loves her! She is special! I need to tell her!"

I looked at him. His eyes were wide open. It appalled him that she had said that she didn't think she was special. I told him I'd walk over with him so he could say whatever he wanted to... We approached her and he said, "You are special. The color of your skin doesn't matter. God loves you. I want you to know that. I heard you say you didn't think you were special, but that's not true." She thanked him and talked to him for a few minutes. She asked if she could have a hug and he gave her one of his signature bone-crushing hugs (hope she needed that chiropractic realignment...).

My eyes welled up with tears. He was genuinely grieved that she ever felt she was less than. I watched God take hold of his heart and use him to love someone who had experienced immense brokenness. As we left the event he said, "I'm glad we went. No one should be abused. I'm glad we can help."

Tonight I'm the proudest mama on the planet. Not because I've done anything other than provide an open environment where God is central and where I live what I believe. What happens in El Kiddo's heart is between him and Jesus. And when I get glimpses of God at work and see my sweet boy love well and love real... Well, I'm overjoyed. And I pray that my son becomes a man after God's own heart, loving Jesus with all he has, and loving others well - no matter how messy their lives are or have been.