November’s dim morning light shrouds the room in a blanket of calm as I greet the Father. “Lord, what work do you have for me today? How can I be like Jesus in someone’s life?” The words hang in the hush of a home not yet interrupted by the rush of bodies hurrying toward busy and I pause, wondering what the day might bring.
I can’t know that by the time the sun sits low on the horizon like a burnished orange dangling heavy on a tree, my heart will quake–grieving for a nine-year old child and wondering what her hours between school and bedtime might entail.
While writing is my passion, teaching is my profession and I love the children whose little bodies fill my classroom. Years ago, I chose to teach because I longed to be the person who might make a difference in a hurting child’s life. I wanted to be that child’s rescuer. Her hope giver. His I-believe-in-you and there-is-more-than-this-joy-bringer.

[bbctt tweet="I wanted to be that child's rescuer.Her hope giver.His I-believe-in-you and there-is-more-than-this-joy-bringer."]

But, naive optimism sometimes collides with reality.
Today, my heart flutters rapidly when a small one says weakly, “I’m afraid to go home. I don’t know what he’ll do to me.” Her eyes seem to plead with me as she leans into my body and I wrap gentle arms around her fragile frame–just as I wish someone had done for another little girl years ago.
I do everything as expected. I make the calls to the State. Complete the required paperwork. And I ask, “Will anyone be able to visit the home before this child goes home?”
The woman on the other end of the line sighs. “Not unless you notice bruising or you were informed of sexual abuse.”

[bbctt tweet="This child--every child--should feel safe.Protected.Loved."]

I thank the woman for her time, drop the call, and feel tears gathering at the back of my throat and drowning my heart. This child–every child– should feel safe. Protected. Loved.
Now, my thoughts and prayers hover over a brown-eyed child and I pray. I ask Jesus to be the one I am incapable of being in this little one’s life and He reminds me.

I Am the Savior who wept tears over a people in need of rescue. I Am the divine planner who lovingly leads a wandering, needy people to eternal hope. I Am the One in whom all things are possible.
I. Am. Able.

Still unsettled, I’m reminded of heaven’s King who exchanged Heaven’s glory for an inglorious manger. The fountain of peace for a world awash in sin. The throne of worship for the disgrace of a cross.
My assignment today was to love a hurting child, but the Father’s mission?                          To be the great I Am.

[bbctt tweet="His power overcome that which is wicked.His purposes will prevail when life is unjust.His presence will guard the weak until the lamb is revealed as a Lion."]

His power will overcome that which is wicked. His purposes will prevail even when life is unjust. And His presence will guard the weak until the Lamb is revealed as a Lion.
 
I would love to know how God has shown himself faithful in your assignments this week. Leave a comment and encourage others with your testimony or let me know how I can pray for you.
Peace and grace,
Tammy
 
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