Her brown eyes met mine with the look only a child can muster. She searched my face and whispered,
It’s like a monster. And it’s hungry.
We walk the same floors day in and day out and we think we know everything there is to know about them. But, even these little ones have thoughts hidden from us. Thoughts they think are wrong, or strange, or different. Thoughts they become too ashamed to mutter – even to mom.
Their young faces are like open books. But you know what they say – never judge a book by its cover.
The look on her face uncertain. A hint of worry.
I took her face into my hands,
Tell me what it’s like. Tell me what is in your mind.
I couldn’t take my eyes off this face I have watched grow breathtakingly beautiful with time. I noticed things here and there. I saw, but I really didn’t know the ways a mind can become enslaved. Sometimes the worst demons are the ones we don’t see.
The flood gates opened as she poured the details of every obsessive worry, every compulsive act. My mind went to the light jokes we toss around about our OCD ways, but the joke of it is lost in the reality. It’s no joke.
She described in detail every little thing I had noticed along the way, and too many things I had never seen.
I squeezed her to my chest and stroked her hair,
I’m going to take you to see a lady doctor this week. You know, when you have allergies, you go to an allergist. When you need help, you ask for help.
You are not OCD. You have it, and you will tell it to go away. And we will ask for help.
The relief on her face broke through the clouds beginning to shadow her trusting child eyes. In a moment, she seemed older,
Oh thank you, Mom. Thank you for noticing. I thought I would have this forever. And it’s exhausting.
Suddenly aware of the monsters trying to grip her life. And sometimes we just need one soul to tell us it’s ok to ask for help. Someone to whisper,
Shame is the monster. Silence is the monster. Secrecy is the monster.
Sometimes we have to pry our eyes open, and then pry open the eyes looking into ours. Eyes pried open is the only way to see the sun rising at dawn. And sometimes is really is darkest just before the dawn. The encroaching light whispering,
The sun peers through, warming these souls chilled by uncertainty.
There is nothing new under the sun – and nothing to hide from the Light.
It’s in the light of truth where we can finally see the monster for what it is… a lie.
You want to know the secret about secrets? It’s this. The secrecy is what will eat you alive. The secret itself has no power over you. Once you whisper the truth –
you are free.
For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord.