I was going to declare a “silent month” here on Come Have a Peace. Because of major transitions in our lives and because I’m leaving for INDIA this week (Keep reading … I’ll share more), I just thought it would be better. I wanted to give myself some space, as I anticipated a bit of a valley. But Jeff encouraged me not to hide my valley.
And then I met S and M in a divine encounter, and I knew I couldn’t be silent in September. I knew I had to write about valleys, because I knew I had to end with their story. I needed to tell you the one thing you have to cling to when you’re in a valley. God used this divine encounter to speak volumes into my valley. If you remember one thing from the Valley Girl series, remember their story.
Jo only had a few days left before she went back to college, so we went downtown to our favorite breakfast spot. Early that morning Jeff and I had shared our plans with our staff of 10 years; I had been tearful. Jo and I talked about the changes in our lives and what we need to know in valleys. I paid the bill and stepped out into the light. That’s when my eyes met hers and she asked me if I could help her.
Having encountered a lot of pan handlers, I rolled out the response I’ve learned in compassion training classes. But as I did, I noticed her tank top, her denim shorts, and her unique tattoos. She looked back at me from a black eye that wasn’t a scam. I was kind, but I was torn. My time was running out with Jo, and I was in a valley of my own. I didn’t have emotional reserves to give from. I was too drained for a divine encounter. I asked her to walk with me to the corner so I could show her a women’s shelter a block away. On the way, I found our her name, where she had slept, and pieces of her story.
Broken. Discarded. Abused by a man who sat nearby in jail for attempting to strangle her. We bonded while we walked. I wrote down some numbers for her, held her arm, and asked her to come to the shelter. She wouldn’t. I was so tired. We said goodbye.
Jo and I walked a short distance when I knew I had to go back. I took S into the restaurant where we’d just eaten and ordered for her. To go. Everyone stared at the bruised woman who sat in the booth with me. I had to tell the waitress she was with me and I would pay. I had to tell S that she has value, that she doesn’t deserve to be battered, and that there is help. She told me about her family, smiled, let me hold her hand, and thanked me.
The next day, I knew I had to go back.
(Check in tomorrow for part 2 and more on why I’m packing for India)
